If I Should Die Before I Wake
by insane-delusions
Summary: Cordy gets a vision of Buffy's death. Takes place after Reprise. BA
1. Chapter 1

Hey all! This is, obviously, my first fic on ff.net. It came to be mainly because I was terribly BORED a couple months ago. But here are a little bit of stuff you need to know before you start reading –  
  
- The timeline is HORRIBLY retarded. Ok? This takes place after Reprise in Angel, and after Tough Love in Buffy.  
  
- They somehow know about Glory and where she came from and why she needs the key. Yes, I'm screwing everything up like that. :D Ahahahaha. You all are under the power that is meeee.  
  
- ((blahblahblah)) the text inside are quotes from the show and, at one point, are lines from the fic itself.  
  
-And I'm very sorry if there's any spelling/grammar errors. I've tried to find them all, but I think I've probably missed a few... five... ten... maybe twenty - okay maybe a billion.  
  
Disclaimer – I do not own these characters. God, do you know how fucked up the shows would turn out if I HAD?! But yes, they aren't mine, however heartbreaking it is. I do not make any money off of this fic. Thank you for your time. :]  
  
Okay, done with the stupid boring stuff. On with the reading.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
He was lost.  
  
Confused. Pained. Swallowed by the darkness that's been consuming him for so long. He couldn't bring himself to remember the starting point of it all. If there even was some kind of starting point. Maybe it was like a never ending line and he had been treading it all his tragic, un-dead life.  
  
Snapped. Terrified.  
  
Maybe if he closed his eyes for a second...  
  
Yeah, terrified fit.  
  
Everything he had been fighting for, hoping for, was forever to be nothing in the bigger balance of everything. He couldn't do enough, he was never going to be enough. Nothing was enough. Never enough.  
  
Afraid.  
  
((Why Fight?))  
  
The thought burned his mind like fire on wood. Was this some joke the Powers were playing? Some kind of sick, impotent joke? Why fight when there was no good purpose in the long run? Why run when there was no great prize in the end? Why fight when nothing was to be made right?  
  
Why? Whywhywhy.  
  
It was a cycle, he realized. It's been a cycle since the dawn of time. Good versus Evil. Evil versus Good. Good never conquered Evil. Evil never defied Good. There were wins and losses on both side, no one's counting. No one cared. At least, no one seemed to care...  
  
And that's what made up humanity.  
  
Humanity, the word burned his tongue and he bit it until the pink flesh bled.  
  
((See, if there wasn't evil in every single one of them out there, why they wouldn't be people, they'd all be angels))  
  
Angel didn't see - didn't want to see why. Why these people had so much pain and so much suffering, and they cried for help and a savior to come to their rescue, but it was apart of them. The darkness was in them. Inborn. Ever since the first cave man clubbed another on the head. It was an act of hatred, a sign of evil, a feeling of impureness. But take that darkness away and you get...  
  
Nothing.  
  
Vulnerable, dry, anything-but-unique. They'd all be innocent... helpless.  
  
And maybe he wanted them to be innocent. Maybe he wanted to play hero and save the helpless, hopeless - whatever.  
  
((Angel Investigations, we help the helpless.))  
  
He stepped into the bathroom, stripped his clothes off and took a small step into the streaming shower, the first time since Darla had laid her malevolent claws on his skin. He looked straight forward with little droplets of beaded water splattered down onto his face.  
  
It was just now he realized he was holding a knife. It glimmered as the metal glistened and reflected off the light. It shined with cruel intentions. Inviting.  
  
Maybe everything would go away. Maybe it would all stop. Please make it stop. Please.  
  
He held out his wrist as he slit one of the major arteries that climbed it's way up his arm. Blood was immediately slipping and sliding from the wound as the knife made its to his elbow. The water soaked red.  
  
Red. Red. Red. It was so red.  
  
God, why wasn't it hurting? It used to hurt. It has to hurt. Everything used to hurt. Now it was numb without any feeling. He felt nothing.  
  
He made another incision up his calf. There was more blood. But no pain. He choked back a sob. He was falling into despair and losing that hope that used to be so bright in the beginning. Now it was fading into black. Everything he touched turned to black; no color, no shine. Just ashes. He cut little lines across his palm and up his arm. They didn't sting, they didn't burn, but there was so much blood.  
  
Ashes to ashes...  
  
Dust to dust...  
  
He could hear each drop of water. Pitter, patter, pitter, patter. Angel dropped the knife and it landed with a sharp noise, barely missing his foot. Quietly, he slid down the tile and curled himself into the corner.  
  
Why wouldn't they let him go? He wanted to go away.  
  
The water still ran red as he watched it twirl in a clockwise motion down the drain. He was falling and tumbling so fast, too fast. He started stumbling and tripping ever since he left Sunnydale. Ever since he left Her. The ache in his chest was just a small tug, a quiet push, but then Darla came and drove him over the edge, threw his balance off completely and he just kept crashing towards rock bottom. People wanted to help, but he couldn't let them see his suicidal plunge. He turned them away, the three people that he could finally call family, he destroyed their bond and left them the cold. He was ultimately alone.  
  
((I just want to feel something besides the cold.))  
  
Now he had finally hit home. His body broken and tattered from the abuse it's taken over and over again.  
  
If I should die before I wake...  
  
And now he was losing. Not just the battle.  
  
He was losing the war. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hi again...  
  
Okay, in this fic Cordelia may seem a lot more forgiving than she really is, but that's only for this story's purpose, ok? I'm not TOTALLY oblivious to the character's emotions on the show...  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Cordelia skipped through the door of Angel - wait, no, Anglmnop Investigations - with the biggest honking check she has ever graced her fingers upon since they closed David Nabbit's case. She could just sing and dance right here in the office, maybe even sing and dance with Wesley and Gunn. But Cordelia Chase keeps her cool. Always.  
  
"Oh my God! You cannot just believe what I just got!" she screamed to Gunn.  
  
"A new pair of shoes?" Gunn asked, flipping through the paper work on the small desk.  
  
"Something even - well, no, actually a pair of Armani's would've been better - but something close to that!" Cordelia waved the rectangular check in the air. "Money! That wrench actually paid us!"  
  
Gunn snatched the piece of paper from her delicately manicured nails. He held the check to his nose and inhaled. Money was a big need in their lives right now. "Mm, mm, mm! Haven't smelt some of this in a long time!" he stuck his hand out and she slapped it. "Damn, we need to call English!"  
  
Cordelia's happy-go-lucky smile faded and she shifted her eyes at the mention of her friend. "Well, Wesley kind of has the day off today..." Gunn looked a little confused so she pressed on. "And we kind of had a visit from a not-so-special someone, lets just call him Anglmnop; he came in here and took one of our books."  
  
"Wait, hold up," Gunn said, surprised that he missed all of this. "Angel came in here?"  
  
The mention of Angel was always at a minimum these days. Usually not at all. Angel was a thing of the past and they needed to keep their new business on a positive note. Although things weren't going as positive as he would've liked them to go. They were actually going in the opposite direction. The bad office, Wesley getting shot, now this. The odds were really piling up against them.  
  
Cordelia nodded. "Yeah, and me being Stubborn Girl, didn't want to give him the book. So Wesley stood up and yelled at me to give him the book and I guess he popped a few stitches. He's fine now..."  
  
"Damn," Gunn said shaking his head. "Angel's really gone off into the deep end with those two vamp girls?"  
  
Truth is, Gunn hadn't been ready for the emotions he had felt after Angel fired them. He wasn't ready for it period. The true bitterness that spiraled through his veins when the word's left the vampire's mouth, the betrayal. He was supposed to be nonchalant about what happened, Angel was just a vampire. It was supposed to just a second gig for Gunn, not like Wesley and Cordelia who practically lived at Angel's hotel. Yet he wondered why he too felt like Angel had stabbed him in the back and twisted the knife in a clockwise motion.  
  
Yeah, yeah, he always thought he thought of Angel as just another vampire. But Gunn kind of liked the guy. The guy who stood with the white hats even when he wore the black hat symbol. The guy who could stake any vampire in ten seconds flat, the guy who took him under his wing even after they had ran him through a series of traps and mistrusting games.  
  
((It doesn't have to be that way. Why can't we do this together?))  
  
Cordelia swallowed back painful memories, playing back the events of the past night. "Oh yeah, he's gone deep sea fishing with Darla and her whacko playmate," she brushed a hand through her hair. "I mean, he was dark. Really dark; and I'm kind of scared, you know?"  
  
((Don't make me move you.))  
  
"You think something's up between the three of them?" Gunn asked.  
  
"Oh, heaven's no," Cordelia said, scrunching her features up. "It's just that he was mean, not Angel-I'm-in-a-bad-mood-get-away-from-me mean, but that really... scary mean. He was so cold, everything about him was just cold."  
  
Gunn shrugged. "Maybe he was just grouchy."  
  
Cordelia gave Gunn a disgusted sigh. "Seeing as how Angel's usually grouchy like 24/7... it'd just be kinda normal for him?" Gunn nodded slowly, but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "No, something's wrong, Gunn."  
  
"So you're saying we should go check on him?" he set the check on the desk.  
  
"Yes - or, no - I don't know! What would Wesley do?" Cordelia asked. Wesley was head boss now, he would know. Wesley always knew. "Besides wheel around like a baby," okay, maybe not always.  
  
"BABY?"  
  
Cordelia turned around sheepishly to see Wesley... sitting in the door way. She laughed to herself. "I wasn't talking about you, Wesley," her mind turned for another excuse. "I was just talking about Gunn here."  
  
"Hey - what? She was all dissing you, man!" Gunn said, holding up his hands.  
  
"I'm glad you two think so highly of me," Wesley chuckled, smiling. He was used to it and usually took no offense to their constant bickering. They were a family, they knew what was a joke and what wasn't. Or at least some of them.  
  
The family used to consist of him, Cordelia, and Angel; they soon recruited Gunn and Wesley thought it was picture perfect from there on. That they created the best fighting machine Los Angeles had ever seen, but he was wrong. Angel fell apart and he drifted away, swaying only to the wind that Wolfram & Hart created. Following their every move and not paying attention to who got hurt in the process. Wesley sighed to himself. Angel finally didn't even recognize the people who cared about him, his family.  
  
((Right now, the three of us are all that's standing between you and real darkness.))  
  
And the sight in Angel's eyes that night made Wesley's spine crawl. They were dark, he couldn't see the same gaze that his friend held just a couple month ago. It was all too frightening; yet he still cursed himself for everything that didn't happen that night. They were supposed to help Angel get back on track, hold him stable; they were his family and they failed him. He was starting to fall off the deep end and they didn't stop him until it was too late. They were too late.  
  
((You're all fired.))  
  
"I thought you had the day off," Cordelia mused, snapping Wesley back into reality.  
  
"Yes," he answered. "But it got... boring, really."  
  
"Gee, and you came here?" Cordelia asked in mock amusement.  
  
"Well, I'm sure things will pick up from now on," he reassured.  
  
"Oh God, Wesley. Save us the false newsflash," she huffed, slipping herself onto the small chair. She let her head hang back before looking back at Wes. "Why did he screw us over like this?"  
  
"Angel is in a very dark place, Cordelia," he tried to sooth her problems. "It might be a long while before he comes to terms again."  
  
She groaned. "Can't we give him a little push in the right direction already? It's been like three months! People, vampire or otherwise, shouldn't be wallowing in their own depression like that!" Cordelia turned to Gunn. "Don't you think so?"  
  
Gunn shrugged. "I say that a man's problems are only his own."  
  
"Ugh! You guys! Don't you see? Angel and heavy emotional stress equal bad things. Sometimes even evil, bad ass twins..."  
  
"Cordelia," Wesley sighed. "Angel isn't going to revert into Angelus. The curse's trigger is perfect happiness, not perfect... despair," the thought was quite eerie. The Romani curse wasn't too specific on what triggered Angel's transformation back into Angelus. There could be a yin-yang type of context in the incantation... but the Gypsies wanted Angelus to suffer for eternity; why would there be a "perfect despair," per se, trigger in bringing the soulless vampire back out?  
  
"Well, you know, those Gypsies people were a little creatively psychotic," Cordelia suggested.  
  
"Angel isn't in need of our services anymore," Wesley breathed out, trying to get grip on what the vampire had put them through. "He fired us, Cordelia."  
  
"Boo hoo, Wesley!" Cordelia said, putting a hand on her hips. "I mean, yeah, I'm hurt tons also. But whenever Angel decides to go catatonic, he does it when everyone that cares about him is pushed way far from him! And guess where we are? Far away!"  
  
"Cordelia - " Wesley tried. He always thought Cordelia would be the last person to say something like this.  
  
"Don't Cordelia me," she pointed to the door. "Go!"  
  
"Me?! Wh- What about Gunn?" Wesley asked, gesturing to the man who was acting more quiet than usual.  
  
Gunn raised an eyebrow. "Hey, English, you're my friend and all, but you dug yourself into this one, you gonna have to get yourself out."  
  
Cordelia gave Gunn a look who just tried to avoid her gaze. "He does need some help..."  
  
"Why do I always gotta be pulled into you and Wes' stupid little cat fights?" Gunn wondered aloud. "It's like 24/7 Jerry Springer in here with you two."  
  
"Haha - Go!" Cordelia ordered.  
  
"Fine!" the two men slowly lug themselves out of the office, grumbling barely audible resentments. Cordelia smiled triumphantly before sitting herself onto a chair. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ahem. Testing 1, 2, 3. Testing...  
  
I'm so happy I ACTUALLY got reviews! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! Reviews are like a drug, very much addicting. ::nods::  
  
Hm, I don't think there's anything I need to say in this chapter...  
  
Is there?  
  
Oh wait, I realized I overplay things a lot. Make things more dramatic than they seem. It's a disease, I know, but just hang tight with me  
  
... did I just say 'hang tight?'  
  
Um. Yeah. On with the story.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Chapter 3 "Angel!"  
  
"Yo, Angel, man! You there?"  
  
Wesley and Gunn stood at the doorway of Hyperion hotel. It was a mess, to be blunt. Books were thrown across the counter; some were even left on the floor. Papers were scattered and crumpled everywhere. Dust had probably collected itself in numerous places. It was cold and everything gave off a ghostly appearance. Nothing was in order anymore, the room wreaked of chaos. The old hotel showed more of an abandoned state than when they had first called this place their home. It was gloomy and ill used; it was finally a vampire lair.  
  
Wesley mentally shivered at the thought.  
  
"You think he's up there?" Gunn pointed to the stairs.  
  
Wesley grimaced. Gunn would have to go up there by himself in Wesley's handicapped state. The idea wasn't too safe itself. With Angel not so... friendly, Wesley didn't want Gunn just charging himself up there unarmed. "Maybe you should..."  
  
Gunn held up a stake. "Already ahead of you, English."  
  
"Be careful, Gunn," Wesley warned as the warrior made his way up the fleet of stairs. "Angel wasn't all too... sane... when we last saw him."  
  
Gunn nodded. "But if I go up there and that Angelus dude is waiting for me, I am seriously getting a raise."  
  
Wesley quietly smiled to himself. Then he looked at his surroundings. Stairs all around him. "Uhhh, Gunn," he called. "I think I may need some help..."  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Gunn was positioned right in front of Angel's bedroom. He hadn't brought himself to knock yet, hadn't mustered up the courage. God, how had things gotten so messed up? If it was any other time, Gunn wouldn't even have thought about knocking. Okay, maybe a little tap, but that's about it. Angel was starting to feel like family, they all started to fill up that spot that was left by his sister, Alonna. He cursed under his breath. He remembered after he jammed that stake into his little sister's heart, he vowed he wouldn't let anyone else so close to him fall into a peril so dark.  
  
And look how great that was turning out.  
  
He shook his head, shaking off weary thoughts and emotions. He heard something though, an erratic tapping noise. Water? Good, Angel was taking a shower... that gave Gunn time to get one of those heroic speeches going, not that he was much for talking. He was usually the brawn of the team; he let Wesley do the jabbering. Wesley was good at that.  
  
He gently turned the doorknob, skipping the knocking. The apartment was dark. Only the glow of the bathroom light illuminated the room. Maybe Gunn should sit, or did it come off too intimidated? He didn't want to be intimidated; he wanted to stand up to Angel. Just not piss him off too much.  
  
Then it finally occurred to Gunn that he didn't actually hear Angel moving around. He didn't hear moving at all. He wagered if he should check on the vampire or not, he'd really like to keep his head for another sixty years, thank you very much. But, reluctantly, he complied with his gut instinct and headed for the shower room.  
  
The sight made Gunn's innards want to come up his esophagus.  
  
Angel, pale as a sheet, curled up in the farthest corner of the shower with a kitchen knife gleaming with stained blood. Gunn rushed to his fallen friend, turning off the running water before checking for Angel's wounds. There were cuts scattered on his arms, one running up his calf. Only two of them were deep, thank God. He flipped open his cell and, as fast as humanly possible, punched in the numbers to Angel Investigations.  
  
"Come on, Cordy..." he silently prayed as the phone rang.  
  
"Chase Investigations, how may I help you?" Finally - wait? What? Chase Investigations?!  
  
"Cordelia?"  
  
"Gunn?"  
  
He pushed the business name away and grabbed a towel from the towel rack. "Uh, yeah, it's me."  
  
"Is everything okay? Are you guys okay?" she asked, worried. "Angel didn't like... eat anyone?"  
  
"No, but he's in some serious trouble," he could almost here her physically tense on the other side of the line. "Look, I need you to get over here quick."  
  
"Is he okay? I mean, he's alive, right?"  
  
"Cordelia, just get your ass down here!" he flipped the cover of his phone down, not really caring about saying his goodbyes at the moment.  
  
Wrapping a towel around the damp vampire, he threw Angel's arm around his shoulder and attempted to haul the bigger man up from the ground. He was successful up to about Angel's bed where Gunn got Angel dressed in a fresh pair of boxers and pants as best as he possibly could.  
  
He cursed again when he realized getting Angel down the stairs without dropping him like a rag doll was going to be very, very difficult if he didn't have another person here to help him. Wesley was downstairs in a wheelchair and couldn't even get up himself, and Cordelia was about as helpful as a small beach shovel.  
  
Gunn gently laid Angel out on his bed, trying to keep his friend as comfortable as possible, before running back down to Wesley who looked hopelessly useless in his wheelchair. "Uh, Wes?"  
  
Wesley looked up. "Ah, Gunn! That was fast, how's Angel?"  
  
"Yeah, that's why I came down," Gunn started. "The guy don't look too hot."  
  
Wesley's eyes grew wide. "You mean..." he couldn't swallow down the thought. "He's not..."  
  
"He's not dead," Gunn said and Wesley sighed in relief. "But he looked a little suicidal to me."  
  
"Suicidal?"  
  
Even the thought of Angel becoming suicidal made anyone's stomach lurch. Angel was one of the strongest people Wesley knew and for the vampire to become somewhat suicidal had to be bad. Really bad.  
  
"Well... not suicidal for a vampire. Look'd like he was trying to die from blood loss," Gunn said, taking a quick glance back up the stairs.  
  
Wesley hung his head. This was getting more troubling by the second.  
  
"I already called Cordelia, she's coming over here," Gunn informed, trying to hoist up Wesley's spirits.  
  
Wesley subtly cleared his throat. "Good. That's good," he looked over to Gunn. "Where is he?"  
  
"Upstairs and knocked out," Gunn said, walking over to one of the couches and sitting himself down with a heavy sigh. When had things gotten so out of control?  
  
Before any of them could form another thought, Cordelia burst through the Hyperion doors; she looked frantic and disoriented, a rare look for Queen C. "Where's Angel?"  
  
"Upstairs," Wesley answered. "He's... asleep."  
  
"You mean unconscious?" she snorted impudently to the ex-Watcher. "I'm not that stupid, Wesley -"  
  
"Cordelia, we found him... not on the most positive note?"  
  
That seemed to get her attention. "Wait... what?"  
  
"I found him up there and it looked bad- "Gunn started.  
  
Cordelia held up her hand, not wanting to hear anymore. "Can I go see him?" she asked quietly, shoving her hands in her back pockets and looking at Wesley.  
  
"Well... I'm not so sure Angel's approachable right now," Wesley cautioned. "If he were to wake up I'd think he'd be a little... lost."  
  
"Don't worry," she said, flashing him a small, but genuine, smile. "If he decides to wake up, I'll call. I'm total resource girl."  
  
With that she started to bound her way up the stairs while both her friends crossed their fingers and hoped everything boded well for the little less than carefree girl.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Cordelia slowly closed the door behind her as she stepped through Angel's dark sanctuary. On a more or less normal day when Angel hadn't fired them, she wouldn't even have given a second thought about coming up here. This was one of the only places Angel could be totally and completely alone and he meant to keep it that way, therefore it was an off limits zone to she and Wesley. It felt so awkward now, like she was sticking her nose into some place that wasn't meant for sticking and it would be burnt off any second now.  
  
She tiptoed her way to Angel's bedside to see the sheets stained in blood. Cordelia gasped, stepping closer to observe the wounds; they weren't severe, nothing super vampire healing wouldn't cure, but the thought on how he had gotten those cuts made her cringe in fear and... guilt, for some odd reason.  
  
Taking a near by chair, she sat herself down next to where Angel lay. And then, after mustering up some courage and taming down her embarrassment, she began to speak to him; nothing much, at first, but something.  
  
"Hey, Angel," Cordelia started, ready to spill out almost everything she had felt for the past couple months. "Haven't seen you since you went psycho vampire on us, but hey, no big, right? Okay, maybe it is a big – no offense. I mean, yeah, you've kind of been a little on the unflappable side since that Darla chick blew into town, but remember what I said? When Doyle died and you were all stoic guy? You don't need to be Mr. Unflappable around me, flap away for all I care, I can deal with. The Angel that fired us and pushed us away, I can't.  
  
"Although, yeah. I know we haven't been a great example of support team 101, but we cared and you should have known we did. You don't have to be macho guy all the time; sensitive-Angel is always good sometimes, too. Yet, I guess we should have said something, you know? Not let you fall like this. And what are these?" she grabbed his hand and looked at the numerous cuts. "Suicidal much? And don't you dare tell me you fell when you get up. I've been to high school; I know what suicidal wrist slashing looks like."  
  
Cordelia sighed and let his hand go, wishing he was awake and looking at her. "I just wish things were different; that all of this didn't happen and we were a team again. I mean, I love Wesley and Gunn, don't get me wrong, but I really miss you, Angel. You made everything right and clear and any word that doesn't mean murky. But now look at you. Do you know how scared I was, thinking that you might one day turn into Angelus again?"  
  
She didn't realize that tears were starting to trail wet streams down her face. She wiped them away, absentmindedly. "And then, sometimes I wonder if I'm not good enough for you, as a friend. Like if Buffy, Ms. Golden- Sunshine, were here that you'd be good as new. Buffy always made you better and I feel like I'm only second best. Well I know no one comes before her in your heart, but like... I feel like I'm supposed to take care of you now since she's not around anymore and now, since everything that's happened, I can't. I just don't see why that little girl, who hasn't even mentioned to call ever since you gave up your humanity for her, can be so special to you. Honestly, ever since you left Sunnydale for her greater good, I think she's treated you like crap. And you deserve better, Angel. You deserve someone who doesn't just forget about you like dust in the wind.  
  
"But I guess that's one of the never ending mysteries of the Buffy and Angel saga. I know you love her and she... supposedly... loves you. So I'll leave it at that. You be the judge, although you've been doing a very crappy job of being the judge lately. You need a vacation. Get a tan. I'm sure you can do the tanning booths, right?" 


	4. Chapter 4

Um. Yes. Again. I am GRATEFULY THANKFUL of your guys' reviews. But, yes, this is a B/A story (Sorry to the people who wanted C/A.) I like Cordy as more of a friendly figure toward Angel (they just killed that relationship in season 3) and... yeah. That's that.  
  
So, on with everything else. - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Angel had been knocked out quite a few times since he graced himself upon this earth, but God, nothing would have prepared him for the guilt, despair, and emotions that decided to hammer its way into his head when he finally came to some sort of consciousness. His whole body felt like it had been pumped of a major amount of blood. He wanted to throw up everything that was inside his body and shrink away into the bed spread, disappearing into the ether.  
  
Everything, memory or otherwise, started rushing back into his system, guilt soaked and painful. He had failed everyone around him and finally, he failed himself; he lost himself somewhere down the line and it finally collapsed on top of him. There was no turning back and no denying all the self destructive actions that trailed behind him.  
  
Oh God, Darla. He hadn't even had the strength to stake the bitch. He could still hear her lulling voice inside his head, her screams and moans. It had been a night of blind despair, lust, and need. His need to feel and her need for him, or rather, Angelus.  
  
((You don't learn that kind of darkness. It was innate. It was in you before we ever met - you said you could smell me? Well, I can smell you, too. My boy is in there and he wants out!))  
  
He groaned and slowly turned his head to face the digital clock that sat on his dresser. The red numbers flashed 3:29. He closed his eyes, taking in an unnecessary breath, and reopened them again. 3:30. The thought finally dawned on him, he was in his bed. Not in the shower bleeding. Turning his head to look around, Angel didn't see anyone here, but he could hear three faint heartbeats downstairs, they were slow and melancholy. He suppressed another groan, knowing Cordelia, Gunn, and Wesley were the three people down there. They were probably all sleeping; he could picture Cordelia curled around the circular couch, Wesley slumped in his wheelchair, and Gunn slung in one of the chairs, head rolled to one side. Right now there wasn't anything worse than having your friends find you suicidal. Nothing. Angel wanted to die. Maybe if he lay there for another minute he would disappear.  
  
No such luck. He could feel the cuts on his wrists healing, maybe already healed; he didn't really bother to check. He tucked himself deeper into the sheets, thinking about the past events. His friends came to his rescue when he wouldn't come to theirs. God, he shouldn't have been so caught up in his own whirlwind, he should have been helping them. But the past was the past and there was no use dwelling on it.  
  
The door suddenly opened. Lost in his thoughts, Angel didn't realize there was anyone behind the door. He felt himself tense up, afraid to be confronted by the people who he pushed away and yet helped him still. He was ashamed and, evidently, afraid of what had happened, he wanted to wash everything away and start on a clean slate.  
  
It was Cordelia who stepped through the threshold. Angel had become very proud of the woman who she had melted into. Before, in Sunnydale, Cordy was the shallowest and tactless girl you could meet, but now, after moving to Los Angeles and helping Angel, she had grown into this beautiful, strong woman. Of course, there was still a little bit of that Sunnydale cheerleader inside, but that didn't matter anymore. Angel didn't know how he would have gotten through the past two years without her.  
  
"Angel?" her voice rang out through the room.  
  
Angel couldn't bring himself to answer her so he just lay there, blinking back tears, hoping she'd leave, but she walked towards the bed, each step making it harder and harder for him to hold back the sorrow, guilt.  
  
"Angel..." Cordelia said. She saw his eyes were open, but glued to the clock next to him. "Oh, my God, Angel, you're awake." She dropped to her knees and gave him a hug, but he couldn't bring himself to return the gesture. "We were so worried," she sobbed; Angel could feel hot tears slide onto his back.  
  
She leaned her head back; he still couldn't look at her. "I sent Gunn and Wesley over here and they said you..." she paused, not wanting to prod any sore spots, but then decided that right now was time for prodding. "How could you do it? You should have come to us, we would have helped. I mean, it's not so much the physical part, but we're worried about your, you know, mental health, Angel." She sighed. "Are you okay, at least?" she pursed her lips when he didn't answer. "Um, do you want some blood or something? Because Gunn said it looked like you lost a lot of blood..."  
  
"No, it's fine Cordy." His answer was stale and dry. God, his throat was so dry.  
  
"But you've been all... you know, with the suicidal and -"  
  
"I'm so sorry, Cordelia," he whispered. Angel tilted his head toward her, his eyes locked with hers and she hugged him again. This time he hugged her back.  
  
Cordelia closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. Oh God, she almost forgotten what he smelt like. She thought she'd never forget. "Angel it's okay, it's okay. You're going to be okay."  
  
"I... I was falling too fast and I felt like everything just wasn't worth it anymore," he squeezed his eyes shut, trying, but not succeeding, to block out the memories of Darla. He felt so fucking dirty sleeping in the same bed right now. She was his last resort for silence. "I wanted to die; I wanted everything to go away."  
  
"Shhh..." she soothed, not knowing the real reason for his deepest confessions. "It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."  
  
Cordelia felt another sob choke her throat. Just hearing Angel say he wanted to give up made her world want to crumble. He used to be the one who told everyone not to give in and hope for the best, but now he's just been stretched too much and pulled in too many directions. He needed time to recollect himself.  
  
They sat there for a few minutes both. Just sitting. It was something they both needed. Just to sit and... to be. Be Cordy and Angel again. She pulled away and sat herself on the bed, knowing this was going to be the hard part of the reunion. "I know things were bad for you, Angel," she started. "But what you did to us... it hurt. I'm not saying everything that happened was your fault; it's just that... our feelings were crushed. You pushed us away, too far away. I care for you, Angel, but, just to get things straight, I'm not sure if I trust you."  
  
Angel looked away as he felt his heart break. He knew he deserved every single word that came out of her mouth, but it was still uncomfortable to hear it. He had broken their trust, broken the bond that connected the four of them together.  
  
Right now, Angel felt more like a loner than he did in a long, long time.  
  
"But we're not going away this time, whether you like it or not," Cordelia continued, mostly for Angel's sake. Right then was one of those moments where he was soaking in the guilt and turned into taciturn-stoic-guy. "The PTB obviously don't like us being apart because I haven't had a vision in months and plus, I think we make more money when you're around. Not to be rude or anything, but Wes isn't really that macho and Gunn is only so much of a person." She smiled and did the little wrinkly nose thing that only she could pull off.  
  
She got off the bed, readjusting her shirt. "Are you gonna come down?"  
  
Angel looked up at her. "Uh, actually..."  
  
Cordelia nodded, getting his drift. "You don't want to face the people who think you're a complete nut case?" she finished, then winced when she saw Angel look away. "Sorry," she apologized. "Just... come down when you're ready, okay? I won't tell them you're up or anything, so take your time," she said, starting to walk away.  
  
"Cordy," Angel called and she turned around. "Thank you."  
  
"What are friends for?"  
  
- - - - - - - - -  
  
"So is he up yet?" Wesley asked in a half yawn as Cordelia walked down the stairs. He hated being totally confined to this wheelchair, it made him feel partly useless. Being an ex-Watcher, he wasn't used to this feeling yet. It was more of the feeling of being in control and on top of things that he was used to.  
  
"Nope," she shook her head. "He's still knocked out," she looked around for Gunn and found him still asleep. "God, and he sleeps like a rock."  
  
Wesley looked at his watch. "It's been over four hours; you think we should do something?"  
  
Cordelia waved a dismissive hand. "No, he's fine. I guess suicide takes a lot out on a person, huh?" she said, only half joking. A quiet shiver ran down her spine.  
  
"I still think we should bail," Gunn's voice came from the far side of the room. He was up, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. "We did him enough, right?"  
  
"No," Cordelia said, sitting herself down on the circular couch. "Angel tried to kill himself; doesn't that send of little alarm bells?"  
  
He shrugged, thinking about what had happened through the past few months. "Not really, he's the one who bailed out on us. Had it coming, is what I say."  
  
"Well," Cordelia said, crossing her arms. "When YOU become crazy and then turn suicidal, I'll remember to bail out on you too."  
  
Gunn sighed, looking at the angry seer. "It's not like I don't care about the dude, but Angel fired us. We already did him a favor, it's not like we just left him there," he pointed out. "And plus, he just cut himself, I didn't see no wood or holy water anywhere."  
  
"That's enough," Wesley bit out, firmly. "Once Angel comes to his senses we'll decide what should be done, until then we wait."  
  
"Whatever," they both huffed simultaneously, and then glared at each other.  
  
Wesley stared hard at the fleet of stairs, wanting so badly to check up on his friend. He did agree with Gunn that Angel didn't necessarily deserve their help, but it would be somewhat selfish of them to turn their heads when their friend was going off the deep end - at least, deeper than where he had already been. He only prayed that every cut and wound would be sewn back together after this stupid -  
  
"Oh my God..." Cordelia whispered and Wesley turned his head. He then saw her expression of horror and quickly started to wheel himself over to her side.  
  
"Vision!" Wesley grunted and Gunn flew up from his chair, taking Cordelia's hand as she jerked and twisted in his arms. She flew forward, holding her temples as images flew threw her mind's eye.  
  
//There was a tower, tall and oddly weird looking. The landscape was familiar... - Oh, great. We're back in Sunnyhell. Cordelia took a better look at the kooky tower and guessed it could have been around 50 to 60 feet high. Lighting and fire lit the sky and rocks flew down from the Heavens(Hell?). God, Cordelia mused, rain of fire much?  
  
Then people, there were people - Buffy and crew! Ew, and Spike? What the hell was Spike doing there? They were all ready for battle, apocalyptic obviously. Cordelia inwardly threw a fit, the PTB had the WORST timing EVER. Send her the vision of Angel's long lost love going into this huge fight right after he's had a major breakdown? Really, guys, you're doing a SWELL job up there!  
  
There was pain and it swelled in her head, it was so hot and painful, crackling and burning, Cordelia thought her skull might split. Sorrow built up inside her as she saw Buffy running down a plank... she looked so terrified and yet, almost.... content. Then there was a flash of light and electricity. Dawn in a deep red dress - what - what was Dawn doing... she was crying, tied to the railing. There was blood, cut from a palm.  
  
A scary looking porthole was thundering beneath them, it was screaming with hell and destruction. Cordelia finally saw both Dawn and Buffy on the plank, Buffy was saying something and Cordelia concentrated to hear what the Slayer was making out.  
  
"Dawn, listen to me," she said, Dawn's eyes were red with tears. "Listen. I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world... is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me."  
  
Then Buffy started to run and Cordelia tried to lurch for her, grab her and tell her she can't leave because if she left Angel wouldn't have anything to fight for anymore. She was his reason why he fought and without her he was nothing. But the image kept on going and Cordelia watched as the bravest Slayer in history jumped from the ledge and landed in the porthole, her whole body shaking with tremors and then, with a flash of light, it was gone. Only the broken, torn body of Buffy lay on the aftermath debris of the battle. Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer, was dead.//  
  
Cordelia cried as her eyes flew open, tears starting to fall as the image of Buffy jumping off the platform kept playing over and over in her head; her blonde hair thrown across her face as she hit the ground. Cordelia cried into Gunn's lap as he stroked her hair.  
  
"Cordelia," Wesley asked gently, he didn't know why she was crying. The visions usually didn't do this to her, it scared him to think about what she might have seen. "What did you see?"  
  
She turned her head to Wesley, eyes red and mascara running. He could already see the worst in her vision burnt irises. "Buffy," she whispered. "She died."  
  
- TBC -  
  
Right. There's a minor thing I want to point out. You can EASILY tell that where the vision is in here. But just for those slow people around here (yes, YOU! Over there in the back!) the stuff between the '//' is Cordelia's vision. 


	5. Chapter 5

:] I'm so happy I'm getting feedback. Love you guys for it! Muah!  
  
I don't think I have anything to say... Hm. Nope. There's nothing.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Wesley's eyes blinked open slowly as he started to wake up from another small nap. They hadn't meant to fall asleep, it's just that, after calling Sunnydale a million times and getting no answer, they decided to try later. He stretched his arms and looked around. The room was filled with natural light, the sun streaming in from the doors and windows. Cordelia and Gunn were both asleep in the chair; Cordelia's head on one arm, her legs tucked into her body; Gunn's head was lolled back, his mouth slightly open as he quietly snored. The little nap turned out to be longer than he thought.  
  
Yet there was still no sign of Angel. He thought of having Cordelia or Gunn check up on him, but decided against it and let them sleep. They both deserved it anyway. Wesley wondered if there was any coffee left anywhere around here, he started to turn his wheelchair around towards where the coffee maker was when he saw Angel.  
  
Angel... how were they going to tell him that his beloved Buffy was dated to die in the near future? He had never really gotten all the details on their relationship, but he could tell just by the way Angel's face almost lit up, that Buffy was special.  
  
Angel was sitting on the other side of the counter, fully clothed in one of his black button up shirts and probably black pants, Wesley couldn't tell. Angel hadn't even noticed Wesley getting up, or hadn't made any notion too; his gaze was fixed on the mug in his hands. Wesley watched Angel for a minute, the vampire's knuckles were brimmed white as his grip on the cup became tighter and tighter, Wesley was afraid the glass might be ready to -  
  
CRACK  
  
The mug in Angel's hand had completely broken into tiny pieces and red blood spilt all over the counter. He looked at it, a little shocked and surprised, but made no movement to start cleaning up the mess. Wesley noted the utter confusion on his friend's face, his eyes looked as though they had aged another century and his posture was almost slumped. It made him feel almost sorry for Angel.  
  
"Um, you might want to clean that up before it starts getting on the floor," Wesley offered, watching the blood seep over the counter.  
  
Angel's head immediately shot up to where Wesley was. "I - uh... yeah," he quickly grabbed some nearby paper towels and soaked up the mess, moving the books so they avoided being ruined. "I... um, wasn't really paying attention."  
  
Wesley watched as Angel frantically tried to catch all of the blood and wipe it off. "Do you want any - "  
  
"No, I - I got it," he said, throwing away the towels and grabbing another batch. "I got it," Angel picked up the remains of the mug and threw them in the waste basket.  
  
After he was done, Angel looked toward Wesley, trying to think of something to say. Wesley stared at the uncomfortable vampire, not making the situation anymore easier. Angel sighed and awkwardly shifted his weight. "Wesley..." he trailed off.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I..." he looked away. "I know there isn't anything right now that could make up for what I did to you guys - "  
  
"No," Wesley said, wheeling himself toward Angel so he didn't have to crane his neck, "there isn't."  
  
Angel nodded. "I know, and I just want to thank... you guys for doing what you did last night."  
  
"Hm," Wesley thought. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"  
  
"No... I'm also sorry, for what I put you through. It wasn't supposed to get that tangled, I let it get out of hand and I can't explain how sorry I am."  
  
Wesley sighed. "I understand what you're saying, Angel. You let us down when we tried to help you, neglected us when you needed us most. I don't think I can forgive you, but there are bigger matters at hand..."  
  
Angel raised his eyebrows. "There are? Well... wh - what..."  
  
"Angel..." Wesley started.  
  
"Oh my GOD," Cordelia's voice bounced off the Hyperion walls as she started to wake up. "Why does it smell like blood around here - " she came around to where Wesley and Angel stood, stopping when she saw Angel. "Oh! Angel. You're up. And seeing as how there's that nasty red stain on the counter..." she stopped when she realized she wasn't helping. "Right, so anyways. How are you?"  
  
"I - I'm good, Cordelia," he said, softly. "Wesley was just saying..."  
  
Cordelia's eyes grew as she turned to Wesley, giving him a what-the-hell- are-you-thinking?! glare. Wesley gave her an accused look, shrugging his shoulders. Cordelia turned her attention back to a very confused Angel. "Well... Angel."  
  
"Cordelia had a vision," Wesley butt in, but she quickly slapped him upside the head.  
  
"Yeah, I did..." she walked up to Angel, grabbing his hand.  
  
"What?" Angel sensed that something wasn't right. Something was amiss. "What happened? Is - is everyone okay?"  
  
"Um," she looked down at his fingers, finding some way to put it down easy. "Angel... Buffy..." she met his gaze and she saw the fear in his eyes. "I had a vision and Buffy was in it, the vision. I saw Sunnydale... and there was this big fight, nothing new there, but... as it went on... Buffy. She died, Angel."  
  
She died. Buffy died. Buffy Summers - his Buffy Summers... died.  
  
The words hit Angel like a baseball bat nailed with spikes. Buffy... dead? No, no - that couldn't - this couldn't happen to him like this. Not, Buffy she - she was supposed to go on, she was supposed to live! The End of Days - the Oracles! They had promised him she was going to live. He gave back time for her so she didn't have to die! Why was she dead now? They could have been together right now, in his room -  
  
Angel shook his head mentally.  
  
"Well," Wesley started. "Maybe not. Cordelia's visions are of the future, the Powers That Be don't send visions that have already happened, they send visions of things that you're supposed to prevent or of people you're supposed to help."  
  
"So, you're saying she may not be dead?" Cordelia spun around, staring at Wesley. "Great time to tell us AFTER I give him the 411 that his ex- girlfriend might be toast!" she turned around to look back at Angel, but he wasn't there. He was sitting on the couch, staring at the ground. "Here that, Angel? Buffy might still be alive and kicking."  
  
Cordelia sat next to him, knowing that was probably one of the most painful things he has ever heard in his life. She couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of emotions that were stirring inside him and she felt a little bad for not really knowing how she could ease the pain, help him cope. "We can still prevent it, Angel. Hey, even I'll go down with you to Sunnydale - "  
  
"No."  
  
Cordelia was a little surprised by his answer. Taken back was more like it. "What?"  
  
"No," Angel said, more calmly. "I'll go, you guys stay here and - "  
  
"Hey," Cordelia snapped, her brow creasing in frustration. "Remember the part where we don't work for you anymore?"  
  
"But - "  
  
"We'll make Gunn stay here!" she said, pointing over to where he slept. "We can help, Angel!"  
  
"No, Buffy - " Angel, got up and started rushing toward the door. "Buffy needs my help."  
  
"Angel!" Cordelia said, trying to run after him. "Angel, we can figure this out together!" But by the time she got up Angel was out the door. Cordelia sighed, throwing her hands up in defeat. "I swear, nothing can ever stand between him and his miss blonde and beautiful, now can it?"  
  
"No, Cordelia," Wesley said solemnly, watching the Hyperion's back doors slowly close. "He loves her too much too let anything happen to her."  
  
Cordelia looked at Wesley for a moment before turning around. "Then why has he been here in LA? Obviously something's HAD to happen to her between when he left and now. God, the guy has serious priority issues. We need to get him a planner." 


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, I'm a total ass for forgetting to say this in the beginning, but Joyce DIDN'T die. The Body & Forever NEVER HAPPENED.  
  
Which is a duh since this is right after Reprise, but remember how in the Buffy timeline we're at the end of Tough Love? See how this all makes the kind of sense that doesn't? Yes, it's tragic, but oh well. Um, yeah. So Joyce is still in the hospital and I'm hardly even going to mention her beyond this chapter. Just forget about her. And don't bitch at me because I'm leaving out her tragic illness and stuff. Because is the story about Joyce's sickness? NOOOOOO. It's about other stuff.  
  
Good. There we go.  
  
Ugh, these things are so messed up.  
  
(I'm sorry I'm being so annoying and bitchy. The feeling of Angel's cancellation is sinking in and making me retarded.)  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Buffy Summers looked around her dining room; the empty chairs, the small pictures, drapes and curtains, and the big fat stack of bills that currently sat right in front of her. She made a small groan as they gleamed at her with evil intentions. Bills sucked. Life sucked. There was way too much going around for her to be worrying about the water or the electricity. Glory was after the Key, aka Dawn, her mom was in the hospital, Riley left, the wonderful news that death was her gift, and Spike with his gross, sick robot that looked exactly like her. The thought of Spike going pelvic with something that merely resembled her, mind you that the thing was a complete replica, made her want to gag.  
  
Stifling another groan she stared at the pile of envelopes. If bills were a lot like vampires, this would have been a piece of delicious cake right now. Kick. Stake. Poof. Easy. Maybe Willow could make it go away with some of that handy-dandy magic she had going these days. Her best friend was getting pretty good with all that magic and things which Buffy had no understanding of. Buffy guessed it was partially from being around Tara, Willow's girlfriend. Tara had been a witch before they had met each other; she helped Willow along from using magic for just play to using magic for kick some major demon butt. Willow was quite the bad ass.  
  
Buffy put her head in her hands. Things were just so hard these days. Everyone had their hubbies and their girlfriends, but Buffy had nothing. She used to have Angel, Parker(if you could call him something,) Riley, but they all left her, tearing her heart out in the process. She didn't know how much of this she could stand; all she wanted was a stable relationship with someone she loved. But didn't she love Angel? She didn't know if she loved Riley as much as she did Angel. Angel used to be her everything and she bowed her head when she remembered what she had bitterly thrown at him down at the police station a year ago.  
  
((I have someone in my life now. That I love. It's not what you and I had. It's very new. You know what makes it new? I trust him. I know him.))  
  
A tear was now forcefully trying to tumble its way down her cheek, but she held it back. What she said wasn't true, she did trust him, she did know him. She trusted him with her life when she offered her throat. She trusts Angel as much as she trusts Willow, Xander, or Giles. She had felt jealous. Jealous about the fact that Faith was the one crying into Angel's chest, not her. Jealous that Angel wasn't in her life anymore, but he was in so many others' lives, helping them. She knew it was overly selfish, but it was sadly true. It just hurt her to think that the person who had spat in Angel's face that night wasn't the Buffybot, but her, the real Buffy.  
  
"Buffy, do we have anymore peanut butter?!" Dawn's voice echoed from the kitchen as Buffy heard cabinet doors open and slam closed.  
  
She sighed, tilting her head back on the chair. "No, Dawn. You ate the last of the crunchy one last week, remember? I'll go to the supermarket tomorrow and we'll stack up on that stuff."  
  
Dawn made a face as she stepped into the room. "I thought Xander said there was some hidden behind the plates," she pondered out loud. She shrugged her shoulders, sitting besides Buffy. "Whatcha doing?"  
  
"Bills" Buffy grumbled. "I don't even see why we have to pay for these. Water's always free at those little drinking fountains, aren't they?"  
  
Dawn smiled. "If money grew from trees..." she mocked, smiling.  
  
Buffy gave a small grinned. "Yeah, yeah, I get it." Suddenly she frowned. "It's just, I don't really know if I'm ready to be a grownup. This feels like a small reality check to see if I'm ready to take care of all this if Mom..."  
  
"Don't say that," Dawn said, hugging her sister. "You're doing just fine. I mean, what grownup has to fight evil hell Gods and stake vampires? I'm sure someone will cut you some slack one of these days."  
  
"Thank you, Dawn," Buffy said, hugging her sister back. She loved Dawn and she was never going to let Glory or anyone else take Dawn away from her. Hell Gods, minions of evil, get ready because the Slayer is ready to kick some serious demon butt. "It's just - "  
  
Then the doorbell rang.  
  
Buffy's brow furrowed in confusion. The Gang hadn't said anything about coming over tonight, they had just been over a couple hours ago. She knew it couldn't be Glory. Glory wasn't really for knocking; more of the type who pulls down your wall and then eats your brains out. She looked at Dawn, who was also had her eyes fixed on the door. "Stay here," Buffy said, but changed her mind, "or... get back into the kitchen..."  
  
Dawn nodded, obeying her sister's words. When she was out of sight, Buffy crept slowly towards the front door, listening for any sound of trouble. Not hearing anything out of the ordinary, Buffy put her hand on the doorknob, swallowing. Then she cracked open the door to peer outside. The sight before her almost stopped her heart.  
  
Angel.  
  
He was standing right there in front of her, no coat on, just the usually black on black look. His eyes were worried and scared as he looked longingly at her, she felt something amiss that floated around him. He looked pale, too pale. But, God, did he take her breath away. She wanted to jump him and smother him with soft kisses, tell him to stay forever and ever; never leave her side again. Geez, talk about weird, he was just on her mind a couple minutes ago. "Angel," her voice was soft.  
  
Angel looked at her. She was here, she wasn't dead, his Buffy was alive. She looked a little worn out, tired. "Buffy," he said. "Can I... can I come in?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure," she said, stepping aside. Relishing the moment as he stepped passed her, brushing his arm across hers. Mentally slapping herself, she told herself to stop acting like some teenager who was having her boyfriend over for the first time. Angel wasn't even her boyfriend! "So, you gonna tell my why your back in Sunnydale," she started, trying to put on her bitter, I-am-the-bitch façade. "Oh, wait, let me guess. Some big evil's stirring up in LA and your phone just happened to have some kind of malfunction or whatever... "  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
"And it would be sensible to come down and tell me like the last time."  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
She stopped.  
  
"Buffy... Cordelia... she had a vision," he pursed his lips and looked away before looking back at her hazel-green eyes. "She saw you... dead."  
  
The last word hung in the room and punched all the air out from her body. "Wh - what? Excuse me?" she stared at Angel, waiting for him to jump at her and say "April Fools!" But nothing came, just a grim look on his face like his new puppy, or something, died. Then again, she had been prophesied to die once, and although she technically did, she had walked away triumphant. "W - wait, you - you don't just come to my town and tell me I'm going to - "  
  
"Angel?" it was Dawn. She stepped out from behind Buffy who instantly shut her mouth.  
  
"Hi, Dawn," he said, hoping she didn't hear what he had said. He didn't need Buffy's little sister knowing that her sister was going to die if no one prevented it.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked.  
  
Buffy turned around. "Dawn, can you go up in your room for a second," she said, trying to make her voice sound strong and not completely scared. "Angel and I have to talk for a while."  
  
Dawn eyed Buffy, crossing her arms. "What? Angel just got here. I mean, hello, I know I'm the Key, or is there something else you guys are talking about behind my back."  
  
"Dawn," Buffy growled. "This has nothing to do with you, just go up to your room."  
  
"Buffy," she huffed, "this is so unfair. You mean, I can't even say hi to him?" Buffy just looked at her and Dawn sighed, turning around and angrily making her way upstairs into her room. "I can't believe this."  
  
Buffy turned back to Angel, waiting to hear Dawn's door close. "What - how do you know I'm going to..." she couldn't bring herself to say it. Death was her gift, right? It did make some kind of uncanny sense. The kind of sense that she always hated.  
  
"Cordelia... she had a vision," Angel whispered. "She said you die."  
  
Buffy looked hard at him. "And you believe her?"  
  
"This isn't the first time you've been in a vision, Buffy, this is serious!" Angel barked. "Cordelia would never lie about something like that!"  
  
"And of course you believe her, the girl who hated me in high school. So you and her are buddies now?" Buffy accused.  
  
"Cordelia's changed, Buffy. You don't know her anymore."  
  
"Right. Of course I don't," she bit out. Doesn't that mean you don't know me anymore, she wanted to ask.  
  
"Buffy, Cordy is the least of our worries right now," Angel snapped, annoyed at the rivalry that had formed between the two in their last three years of Sunnydale High. "You might die, doesn't that ring some sort of bell?!"  
  
"What? You don't think I realize that?!" Buffy said, she sighed when she realized she was being a little rude. She saw the rejection and pain in his eyes and tried hard not to touch his face, hold it between her fingers. "I - I'm sorry. I just..." tears again began to form in her eyes and Angel started to walk towards her, his features softening.  
  
"Buffy, I just came here to - "  
  
"There's too much going on, Dawn's in danger," she said in a small voice "We have a hell Goddess after us and now this. Angel, I don't know what to do."  
  
Angel wrapped his arms around Buffy, holding her head to his chest as the tears started to spill over. "Shhh... Buffy..." he licked his lips. The smell of her hair filled his senses and he felt himself wanting to cry too. It had been so long since he's felt her in his arms, her small figure fitting his. It felt right and sure and everything else that Angel had been longing for. "I'm going to stop this."  
  
Buffy pulled away, wiping away scattered tears. "Look at me, I'm supposed to be the Slayer and here I am crying because I might die. I'm supposed to be strong and brave for my friends, but at the end of the day all I find is a scared little girl."  
  
"Don't worry; it's going to be okay. You're entitled to be scared. But you're not going to die," Angel reassured. "I'm not going to let go of you."  
  
Buffy smiled, leaning into his chest. "Thank you, Angel."  
  
He just nodded, resting his chin on her head.  
  
- - - - - - - - -  
  
"Wait, Buffy's going to die?" Willow's scared voice asked as Buffy finished what Angel had tolled her. "I - I mean, Cordelia saw her... die?" she gave Buffy an apologetic glance.  
  
"That's it in a nutshell," Buffy quipped. Willow, Xander, Giles, Tara, Anya and Dawn were in the living room listening to what Angel had to tell them. Everyone had become extremely freaked out at first, but things had calmed down. A little.  
  
Buffy looked towards Dawn, she was worried now, for her sister's sake. Dawn was going through a lot for just being 15 years old. Buffy sighed when she realized her sister was walking in her footsteps. 15 going on 30. Grownup- size. "But it's not going happen, now that we know."  
  
"Angel, are you sure Cordelia's visions are accurate?" Giles said, this was the second time Angel had come to Sunnydale claiming there was a vision with Buffy in it. Although he knew not to doubt the vampire's instincts when it came to Buffy and her safety, he just wanted to be sure Angel knew what he was doing.  
  
"Yeah," Angel said. "Cordelia's visions have always been somewhat telling, we've prevented a lot of them from happening." He shot a glance toward Buffy who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "I just... I thought I should come down here since..."  
  
"No, no," Giles said, correcting himself. "It's good that you've come here. It's just a... shock to all of us."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Xander agreed, wiping his hand down his face. Buffy and Willow were his best friends, if anything happened to either one of them, he couldn't forgive himself for not saving them. He turned to Angel, "Do you EVER have good news when you visit?"  
  
Angel just stared at the boy, not even bothering to make a comeback.  
  
"Xander," Buffy warned, "just... just drop it okay?"  
  
He nodded, not really feeling in the joking mood, either.  
  
"So what's this Glory God up to?" Angel asked; he hadn't had the time to get filled in on what was happening.  
  
"W - well," Tara started. Angel liked the girl from the moment she stepped into the Summers' house. She vibrated with nothing but pure and powerful energy, a perfect match for Willow. "She's a hell God a - and she's looking for a Key, we're not really s - sure why. It's kind of all hectic."  
  
Willow nodded, grabbing her girlfriend's hand. "And we figured out that Dawn's the Key," she noted the look of shock on Angel's face and grimaced. "Yeah, we were kind of wigged out too. It was created by monks... who sent it to Buffy to protect. Technically, she's only been around for six months," she gave a small smile towards Dawn. "Our memories are all fake, but it doesn't matter because she's our Dawnie." "Does Glory know?" Angel asked, a little freaked that some of his own memories were just something someone created.  
  
"Hardly," Buffy shook her head, staring of into space. "She does know the Slayer is somehow connected to it, but she doesn't know who it is. If she did, I don't know what we could do. She's too strong - we wouldn't be able to stop her if she knew."  
  
Dawn felt herself shiver with fear and she scooted back into the couch, tucking her legs under her chin. She closed her eyes, trying to get the empty feeling inside her gone, trying to remember that her friends and her sister loved her.  
  
"No weaknesses?" Angel wondered.  
  
"No," Giles answered, taking his glasses off and cleaning them, a simple habit that had become consistent over the years. "None that we know of, at least. She's extremely powerful, not even Buffy could substantially hurt her."  
  
"Giles actually sold a book to her once," Anya said, somewhat cheerfully. Angel glanced at the ex-vengeance demon, a little wary of her. "Then she made a big giant snake and Buffy had to kill it. It was all very intense."  
  
"Uh, I'd appreciate if you didn't bring that up anymore, Anya," Giles said wearily and Anya nodded, snuggling into Xander's arms.  
  
"I say we're screwed, anyone with me raise your hands and say I" Xander said, wrapping his arms around Anya.  
  
Surprisingly, everyone except Giles, Angel, and Dawn raised their hands. "Well," he said, looking around at all the hands. "That pretty much sums up the 'we're-screwed-so-help-us' part. So, Angel. Since you're the one bearing the bad news, what do you think we should do?"  
  
"Honestly," Angel started, crossing his arms "I have no idea."  
  
"There seems to be a lot of that going around," Dawn said, it was the first time she had spoken since everyone had come over.  
  
Buffy smiled, trying to reassure her. "We're going to get through this, Dawn. I promise."  
  
"How can you?" Dawn said, switching to rebellious teenager mode. "I mean, if Angel hadn't come here, you would have died! How is anything going to be alright?!"  
  
"Dawn..." Xander said, trying to calm her down.  
  
"No, really! Someone please tell me, how the hell are we supposed to get through this?!" she growled out, they were all acting like this was something that would blow over. "Because we will," Angel said. "We always do and we're going to protect you."  
  
Dawn glared at Angel. "How do you know? You haven't even been here for the past two years!" Her voice grew louder and she leaned toward Angel. "Why don't you just stay in LA and stop breaking my sister's heart every time you leave!"  
  
Buffy turned to face her sister. "Dawn - "  
  
"No, Buffy, every time Angel's here you get sad and mope around the house! Why should he be here?! He lives in LA, remember?" Dawn said. Angel looked down, feeling guilty about what he had done to Buffy. Although it wasn't like that was anything new.  
  
"Hey, now why don't we all just simmer down... " Xander said, standing up. "Dawn," he turned to her. "Cut Angel some slack, although I too think Angel leaves Buffy in pieces when he leaves," Xander shifted his gaze to Angel for a moment who met his gaze. "But he's responsible for you sister's un- death and that's more than any of us could say."  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes, getting up from her seat. "Whatever," she made her way up the stairs, slamming her door.  
  
Angel stared at the space where Dawn sat then looked to Buffy. "Maybe she's right, maybe I should just..."  
  
"No," Buffy said, grabbing Angel's sleeve. "She's just a little emotional, it didn't mean anything. I'm glad you came, Angel. I'm actually thankful that you came, I need someone that can also protect Dawn."  
  
"But she's right," he said, looking down. "I always end up..."  
  
Buffy finally silenced him with a kiss. She pressed her lips on his and at first she felt a little overwhelmed with what she had just done. It was irrational and something she probably shouldn't have even thought about, but it felt so right. She had been longing for Angel's lips on hers, not Riley's or Spike's, but his. Her heart fluttered and she felt herself come alive again, no matter how corny it sounded. Pulling away slowly, she looked up at him; his eyes were closed for a moment then he opened them, taking in her radiant beauty. "Stay. Please."  
  
"Okay," Xander said, totally stunned. "May I just say whoa, what the hell was that?" Giles looked away as Willow and Tara watched with curious eyes.  
  
"Please do it again," Anya said. "It makes Xander horny and want to have sex."  
  
Xander abruptly turned to Anya. "An, please just stop talking for a second."  
  
"Fine," she grumbled. "But I still think..."  
  
"Sorry," Buffy mumbled, sheepishly looking away.  
  
"No - " Angel started, but Xander interrupted.  
  
"Well! We better be going. Anya?" he stood up off the couch, stretching his arms around. He didn't like the thought of Buffy kissing Angel and decided he had better leave.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Coming," she said, getting up along with Xander. "Can we go home and have...," she stopped when Xander gave her a look.  
  
"Call me if anything, Buff," Xander said, giving her a small wave and walking out of the door.  
  
"I think we should all go home, tomorrow's another day," Giles said, making his way to the door. "We can plan on how to... prevent Buffy's..." he couldn't bring himself to say it and just trailed off. "Goodnight, Buffy."  
  
"Angel can stay here," Buffy said, licking her lips.  
  
Xander popped his head back in, pointing a finger at the both of them. "Anything pelvic and I'll have to stake the both of you." 


	7. Chapter 7 Plus Important AN

I love all you're reviews!!! Thank you so much!!! You guys are like the bestest! Love you all for it. :]  
  
Um. This chapter has a bit of NC-17 in it. O_O gasp! Yes. It does. It's crappy and shitty and blah. So bare with me.  
  
For the people who were asking about the AI team and their appearance in Sunnydale: yes, it's going to happen. But not until later. :D  
  
Evsen: Oh my god! You're a freaking genius and that would have been the best twist or whatever, but unfortunately I've already written up to Chapter 11 or something, so it'd be hard to fit in. I guessed I assumed they would already heal since they weren't like horribly deep cuts. Arrrrghh! But thank you very much for your opinions. You have a great mind X]  
  
-EDITTTT (We interrupt this fic for a brief(long) note from the author)-  
  
ok. I uploaded this chapter today. And then I got a review from Ashleigh and she pointed out a few things that I've done that just don't make any fucking sense at fucking all and it's because –  
  
1) I'm a fucking retard.  
  
2) I haven't even watched the whole season 5 of Buffy (I never really liked Buffy after season 4 and A:tS rocks my socks). Like I catch little bits and pieces of it, but I had no idea that Glory couldn't suck out vampire brains. Therefore = Error. Sorry.  
  
3) This is one of the main points of the story and I'm a stupid bitch.  
  
4) I'm just being insulting on myself and knocking myself over the head for not catching this.  
  
5) Tara's outside because she's sad. [blinks] That's the most lame ass excuse I can come up with right now. Bite me.  
  
6) It's my fic! Ahahahaha [dances around] ...That reason should have been number one. But oh well.  
  
Yes. So just remember I'm not perfect and neither is the fic. And I appreciate Ashleigh's comment very, very much because she obviously corrected one of my many mistakes. (Thank you very much, by the way)  
  
So. While reading this. Stick a big fat pink post-it note on your monitor that says "GLORY EATS VAMPIRE BRAINS CUZ I SAID SO." Ok? Then you all won't run away from this because it makes no sense. :]  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Angel looked around Buffy's room. It was the same, maybe a little more mature, but it was what he had remembered for all these years. He looked to the dresser and saw Mr. Gordo sitting in the same spot where the little stuffed animal had always been. Inhaling, Angel almost felt like he was on one of their midnight meetings. Either stealing small kisses or just lying on her bed, holding her in quiet moments. Memories rushed past him and he subconsciously shook his head.  
  
He watched Buffy as she took an extra comforter out of her closet; the aftermath of the kiss was still lingering on his lips. He could almost taste it, her sweet lips on his and it made his whole body tremble with delight. But it also made him feel a little guilty; just a night ago he had been fucking Darla and now here he was kissing Buffy. Buffy and Darla didn't mix. At all. He felt disgusting and wanted to rub it all away.  
  
"Makes it fee like old times."  
  
Angel looked up at Buffy, interrupted from his thoughts. She had made his bed right next to the foot of hers. He smiled at the memory, his first time in her house, in her bedroom. There was nothing sexual about it, just... almost normal. The girl having the guy over for the first time, both of them a little nervous about it all. It was one of the more... casually normal times of their relationship.  
  
"Yeah," he said, kicking his shoes off and laying them next to the door. "It's been a while."  
  
Buffy sat on her bed, facing Angel. "Look, about earlier..." she stammered, a little embarrassed about her actions. "I'm really, really, really sorry for what I did back there. I know we haven't seen each other in a while a - and you probably already moved on with someone else, I mean, God, it's not like you were just going to stop seeing people after we, you know, broke up. I had Riley and you have... someone... else. Right? It's only fair, I guess - "  
  
Angel then leaned in toward her and planted his mouth on her's, stopping her constant ramble. Buffy was a little shocked at first, not knowing what to do, but finally responding to the kiss, deepening it as she let her hand's glide across his face. Angel leaned into her as he slipped his tongue across her lips and into her mouth, he gently pressed his body against hers and they slid down onto the bed, his hand gently cradling her head. She moaned into her mouth and slowly pulled away. "Wow..." she breathed. "Was I rambling?"  
  
Angel nodded, smiling. "I just had to let you know," he kissed her once more.  
  
"Mmm," she agreed. "Maybe I should ramble more often," she laughed to herself when she realized what they were doing. "You know, maybe we shouldn't..."  
  
Angel got off of her awkwardly. "Yeah..." he sighed. "So I guess we're even then?"  
  
Buffy gave a curt nod. "I guess we are."  
  
Angel started to lie down onto his little made bed before Buffy stopped him. "It doesn't mean you can't still sleep up here with me, does it?" she asked, giving him a small smile. After turning the light out on the small lamp she scooted to the edge while Angel came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Buffy breathed a small relief, feeling safe in his embrace, one of the only places where she did feel safe.  
  
"Angel?" she asked in the darkness.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"I'm so grateful you came," she said, quietly.  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
"No, really. I didn't think I could protect all of them with Glory around prowling the streets for Dawn," she confessed. "I mean, I had Spike, but I can trust him as far as I can throw him, which isn't far enough." Angel became bitter at the mention of the peroxide haired vampire, but let Buffy continue. She paused for a moment before asking, "Are you really actually seeing someone else? I - I mean, I know it's none of my business, but I was just wondering..."  
  
Angel smiled at her innocence. "No, Buffy, I'm not," he answered. "Not since I've been with you."  
  
Buffy's heart warmed at his answer. "Really?" she could feel him nod against her. Laying there against him, she contemplated her thoughts. Angel hadn't been with anyone since he had left for LA? Okay, yeah, maybe he couldn't really, you know, have an everlasting relationship with someone who could make him truly happy... but he didn't even go on dates? Maybe he did, but Buffy didn't want to ask. Closing her eyes, she started to drift off into a deep sleep. "Goodnight, Angel," she murmured.  
  
"Goodnight, Buffy," Angel whispered back, falling into a deep sleep himself.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
//Angel felt her move against him, her body meshed with his. He could feel her rhythmic strokes as he dove in and out of her. The sensation he was sending her was animalistic and he growled into her neck as she ran her hands across his body, scratching and clawing; raking ugly marks down his back; her blonde hair thrown to one side. He kissed her with a fiery lust and all he could think about was her, her breasts and their altogether firmness, her silk skin moving along side his. He could feel her arch over him as her climax ripped through her small, petite body and she moaned his name in pure pleasure. Angel joined her and they both fell into each other's arms.  
  
"Angel..." she breathed, kissing him again and he felt himself grow hard once more. She smiled and toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Well, someone's a growing boy."  
  
Angel growled as he flipped her over, reclaiming the top. His vampirism features rising to the surface, he kissed her hard, raking his fangs over her lips. She just groaned as the taste of her own blood filled her mouth. Angel rose both of her legs over his shoulders and thrust himself into her grabbing her hips, not waiting to give her anything else. No sweet kisses, no tender touches. She cried out and pushed herself against him, thrashing at the sheets as he rocked her back and forth. Back and forth.  
  
God, she smelt so good. Her scent of cinnamon, sharp and never delicate. This woman before him knew how to take care of herself, kill anything that stood in her path. She gave a sweet and soundless death to her victims, unlike Angelus who would've rather toy and manipulate his prey. He gave her a wicked smile as he felt her arch up against him.  
  
They panted like wild animals as Angel's strokes became fast and brutal. She was his sire, he was her childe. There was nothing more and nothing less. "Angel," she moaned, feeling the build up of her second orgasm. With one final thrust Angel spilled himself inside her as her walls flexed around him, bringing her to her own peak. He groaned, falling atop of her, planting another hard kiss onto her lips before leaning over, kissing her fine, strong neck and then biting and tearing at her skin, while she did the same. He filled his mouth with her ravaging blood. Drinking, drinking, drinking. He felt her growl and he just bit down harder, her legs wrapping around his waist.  
  
"Darla..." //  
  
"Darla!" Angel yelped, sitting straight up from his all too vivid dream. It was exactly like that night... the night he and Darla fell into each other's arm and danced together in erotic passion. He wiped his head and found himself sweating, his mouth felt clammy and he licked his lips. It was just a dream... it was all just a dream... Darla isn't...  
  
"Angel?" Buffy voice made him jump as he turned to her. She was awake, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Angel prayed and prayed that she hadn't heard his little outburst. Yet Buffy noticed how antsy he was and gave him a worried glance. "Angel... are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, nodding his head vigorously. "Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
She quirked an eyebrow toward him. "But I heard you shout out Darla's name..."  
  
Angel froze instantly, swallowing down his guilt and ultimate fear. "W - what?"  
  
"I heard you call out Darla's name when you got up," she said bluntly. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him skeptically. "Is there something I don't know about?"  
  
"N-no," he said, looking back at her. "I... I was just having a nightmare."  
  
"No," she disagreed. "You have something face. What happened, Angel?"  
  
"Buffy, can we please drop it?" he pleaded, really not wanting to explain the past events to her. Even he hadn't fully recovered from what had been happening and all he wanted to do was lay it in the grave. "It was nothing."  
  
"Angel," she said, sitting up. "Right now isn't the time to be playing these games, we have a hell goddess out looking for us, there shouldn't be any lies between us. And even if there was no Glory to worry about, we shouldn't be lying to each other!"  
  
"I can lie to you if I want to now. We're exes, remember?" Angel bit out, reciting the exact words Buffy had said to him.  
  
She looked at him with wide eyes. "Don't you dare pull that with..."  
  
"Why not, Buffy?" Angel said, straightening himself to face her. "So you can and I can't?"  
  
"Angel, that isn't the point!"  
  
"Then what is the point?! What is the point, Buffy?!" he yelled at her, all the emotions that had been bottled up from the past months, just from the past two nights, were now pouring out of him. He was angry, he was hurt, he was confused, and he knew he was being a total asshole for taking it out on her; the dream had put him into a total tailspin. "So only you can be the all high-and-mighty one? Because, really, Buffy, there are other people in the world besides you! You're not the center of the fucking universe!"  
  
"Why are you yelling at me?!" she said, tears starting to well up in her eyes. "I just - "  
  
"Because I've been fed up with everything!" he got up off the bed and started pacing across the room. "Everything that's happening, happened, I don't know! I tried to be strong, I tried to be the hero that everyone comes to when they're in trouble, but all it takes is that fucking bitch to drive the hero over the edge and all of a sudden I'm there! I'm lost and I don't know where to go because I've screwed everything up in my goddamn life! And all I remember is sleeping with Darla - "  
  
"You slept with Darla?!" Buffy said, furious. Darla was dead, she had seen Angel stake her, she saw Darla turn to dust. "Darla isn't even alive!"  
  
Ashes to ashes.  
  
Dust to dust.  
  
"No, Wolfram & Hart brought her back! They brought her back human..." he reminisced. "And... I thought I could save her. I almost did... but they turned her. Dru she... Then Darla was a vampire and I became obsessive... too obsessive. I was in a spiral... and when I hit rock bottom... I thought I could lose my soul in her and everything would end."  
  
"Wait..." Buffy said, thinking about this. "You SLEPT with Darla?!"  
  
"Buffy," Angel groaned; this whole thing was blowing up in his face as he spoke. "I was in a very dark - "  
  
"I don't care how DARK it was, Angel!" she cried. "You should have called me! Remember me? Buffy? Vampire Slayer, kind of the only thing on my list of talents!"  
  
Angel shook his head. "It wasn't your fight..."  
  
"Angel, you SLEPT with her! You obviously didn't win!" Buffy yelled. "How does that not fit through your thick skull?!" Sometimes Angel's ignorance never ceased to amaze her.  
  
"I'm going for a walk," he growled out, heading out the door.  
  
"Don't you walk away from me, Angel!" she said, getting up and grabbing his arm.  
  
"Buffy," he said, glaring down at her. "Let go."  
  
"No!" she said, shaking her head. "I'm not letting you go out there! You owe me an explanation, Angel!"  
  
Angel, already high off his scratchy emotions, pushed Buffy off of him. "I don't owe you anything, Buffy!" he growled out. "I... I just... I need to get some things sorted out..." And without looking back at her, he left because he knew if he looked back into her sad, heartbroken eyes he wouldn't be able to make it out of this house without breaking down again. "I'll be back before the suns up."  
  
Buffy watched Angel leave, tears starting to trickle from her eyes. "Angel..." she whispered. She knew she shouldn't have probably yelled at him like that. He said he had been in a downward spiral and she should have comforted him, not accuse him. Laying back down into the sheets, Buffy grabbed an extra pillow and hugged it close to her. She couldn't afford to be broken like this, she had to be strong, there was a time for grieving and right now wasn't.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Angel shoved his hands in his pockets as he hunched his shoulders and walked across one of Sunnydale's many graveyards. The fight with Buffy really wasn't necessary if he had kept his big mouth shut and hadn't yelled at her like that.  
  
((For a taciturn, shadowy guy. I got a big mouth.))  
  
He sighed, leaning against a gravestone. It was the truth; he had a huge mouth for a broody, centuries old vampire guy. He shouldn't have yelled at Buffy, for sure, but everything that was bottled inside him had just came gushing out... he hadn't really had the time to recuperate after his little incident at the Hyperion and the yelling and the mean comments were just bursting inside him, waiting for a person to be spat at. Which unfortunately was Buffy. The one person who he had not wanted to blow up on. His timing really sucked.  
  
Tilting his head to one side, Angel heard small sobs in the distance... he turned his head and tried to peer through the trees. Either someone was really heartbroken at this time of early morning slash late night, besides Buffy, or vampires really got emotional these days. No, but it was human; Angel could hear the heartbeat as it quietly pulsed. He started to walk towards the small cries and was finally surprised to see Tara, sitting there and crying on the bench. She wasn't bawling or anything, just small and quiet sobs.  
  
Angel started to walk toward the witch, hoping he wasn't going to ruin anything further than it already was. Tara hadn't even noticed him as tears trailed her closed eyes. Angel slowly sat next to her on the bench and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
Tara jumped, already thumbing through spells just incase Angel had been Glory. Her body relaxed when she saw the familiar vampire. "Oh, Angel, I - I didn't see you..."  
  
"Sorry," he gave her a gently smile. "You okay?"  
  
She shook her head. "N - no, not really..." she wiped away tears and sighed. "Willow and I, we kind of got into a fight... I - I mean, I know I shouldn't be all crying a - about this, but it's our first big, you know, fight..."  
  
"It's not..."  
  
"No, no, it's not over, I don't think" Tara said, catching what Angel was implying. "We just... fought, that's all," she smiled to herself. "I don't really know why I should be crying."  
  
"It's okay," Angel tried to comfort her. "You two are going to be fine."  
  
She gave Angel a sweet glance. "Thanks..."  
  
They both sat in silence, each not really knowing what to say. After a while Tara spoke up first, "I - I think you and Buffy make a really good match."  
  
Angel raised an eyebrow. "You do?"  
  
"Well - well I know it isn't my business," Tara said softly.  
  
"No, go on..."  
  
Tara pursed her lips. "I can feel the pull of your auras... a - and they pull toward each other, l - like you two belong to each other."  
  
Angel sighed. "It's a lot more complicated than that."  
  
Tara nodded. "Yeah, I know. Just maybe try and work it out, maybe it'll all fall into place..."  
  
"Awww, now isn't that just the sweetest thing you've ever heard?"  
  
Tara gasped loudly and Angel turned around. There was a woman standing right behind him with fiery, curly red hair, she wore red leather pants and a red top. Her features were almost cynical and by what Angel had heard, he guessed the malicious looking woman in front of them was Glory, the hell goddess that wanted Dawn.  
  
"Well," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "You gonna give me a hug or what?" Tara backed up and Glory shifted to Angel. "Wow, who's tall, dark, and handsome over here? Have you gone straight again or something?" she asked, laughing. "What? The other witch not good enough or something?"  
  
Angel could feel the magical power resonate through Tara and he knew no one messed with Willow when she was around, not even apocalyptic hell gods. Deciding to bide her some time, Angel flew towards Glory, punching her square in the face, only to receive a highly sore fist and a pissed off goddess. Buffy and Giles weren't kidding when they said she was powerful.  
  
"Ow!" Glory yelled and tenderly touched the place where Angel had hit her. "Feisty now isn't he?" she laughed when Angel went vamp. "Vampire? Well I gotta admit, I wasn't expecting that."  
  
Angel kicked her in the gut and she stumbled backwards. "You must be Glory."  
  
"Yeah, so what?" she said, walking toward Angel and giving him an uppercut, sending him airborne and into the bench, it split right through the middle. Tara yelped in surprise. "You gonna do something about it?"  
  
"Maybe," Angel growled, getting up from the debris. He threw her a roundhouse kick which just sent her a few steps backward, then he grabbed her shoulder and pummeled her face with continuous punches, each connecting to her face but doing her no serious damage.  
  
Using her free hand, Glory met Angel's fist in mid-punch as she stopped it from hitting her semi-bruised face. "Okay, that's enough fun for now, little vampire," she mocked, smiling.  
  
"... let thee find thy target, bind energy and freeze, let thy be empty, let thy beseech thy life," Tara chanted as a thunder of magic bolted out of Tara's finger tips and zapping Glory. Glory threw Angel into a tree and screamed as the magic consumed a part of her energy. Tara's head brimmed with sweat as she tried to keep the hell goddess under her thrall, trying to give Angel enough time to escape. But it wasn't good enough and Glory took staggering steps toward the Wicca, her eyes gleaming with anger. She finally got to Tara, backhanding her into the ground. Tara cried out as she fell onto the grass. "God, didn't your mother tell you it's rude to STEAL other people's energy?" she kicked Tara who got knocked into a gravestone. "I guess she didn't. Mothers these days. Well," Glory picked Tara up off the ground and pressed her fingers against her scull, "I guess we're going to have to teach you a lesson."  
  
"No!" Angel yelled as he tackled himself into Glory, saving Tara from certain insanity, but was pinned to the ground when they landed, Glory straddling his hips. The hell goddess laughed and slowly guided her fingers toward his temples. Angel struggled beneath Glory, not sure why he couldn't throw her off when he probably outweighed her by 70 pounds. He pushed her face back with his palms, but her hands kept caressing his face, taunting him as she laughed.  
  
Tara breathed hard as she got herself up off the ground, quickly conjuring up a spell to get Angel out of Glory's clutches. "Separate!" she yelled and both of the combatants were thrown apart.  
  
"Hey!" Glory growled, having enough with the witch. "We don't need you right now!" she leapt toward Tara and sent a kick to the side of her head "Stay down, damnit!" Tara moaned in pain as the toe of Glory's designer shoes hit her side.  
  
Glory smiled at Angel. "Now, I haven't actually tried eating a vampire's brain," she chuckled and Angel stood up again a little wobbly. "This is gonna be fun, don't ya think?"  
  
Faster than any vampire, Glory pinned Angel to a tree with her hand against his throat, if Angel had been in need of oxygen he would have died. Pulling his leg up he tried to kick Glory off him, but she caught his leg with her free hand and shook her head. "Tsk, tsk tsk" she laughed. "Don't worry; this will only hurt a lot."  
  
Angel tried to rear his head back, but she caught his head and pressed her fingers into the sides. He screamed painfully as he could feel her feeding off his sanity. She let her other hand free and stuck it in the other side of his head; Angel couldn't fight back, the pain was too intense, like she was taking everything emotion that built his life up. He cried out and she breathed in, intoxicated by this vampire's mind. He had one of the most deliciously tortured minds that she had ever felt; it made her hum with newborn energy.  
  
Tara watched in horror as Glory's finger sank into Angel's head. She pulled herself up into the sitting position and, using the rest of her magical energy, quietly chanted a up a spell to send Glory back to her home in Sunnydale, where ever that was. "... return the darkness to its sheath, redeem its evil in thy sleep!"  
  
Green and blue energy surrounded the goddess and Glory's fingers slipped out of Angel. She looked at herself and didn't believe that the little witch had the nerve to send her back where she lived, or at least where she lived now. She huffed, there hadn't been much left in that stupid vampire's mind anyway, might as well enjoy the ride.  
  
With another flash of florescent light, Glory was gone.  
  
Angel fell to his knees. The first thing he could feel and comprehend was pain. Searing pain that turned his head into a blazing inferno; it entwined itself into the center of his being, lacing itself around and through ever vein of his body. Then came the emptiness. The hallow feeling of nothing, like he had been the only on left on this planet and everyone had flown to the stars and became little star children. It bit into him like ice, frozen and merciless. His mind was empty and his soul bare. He screamed and backed up against the tree roots. "Get it off, get it off me!" he yelled.  
  
Tara ran over to Angel, and held him in her arms. She was too late, Angel's mind was taken by Glory and it was all her fault. If she hadn't been here crying, for God's sake, Angel wouldn't have needed to protect her; he might've not even run into Glory! She tried to sooth him the best he could, but he jerked and pulled in her grasp. "Angel!" she cried, trying to get him to calm down. "Angel, it's going to be okay," she started to sob, gently running her hand over his hair. "Oh, Goddess, what have I done... please let them forgive me, oh, please let them forgive me..." 


	8. Chapter 8

Okay. There's probably more bits and pieces that have loose ends or something, but yeah. Point them out for me and we'll be a happy little family.  
  
...not really. [side glace]  
  
Rite. Just start reading.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Chapter 8  
  
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!  
  
Buffy woke up to the gracious sound of someone pounding on her door at 2:45 in the morning. God, she thought, throwing her legs over the edge of her bed, if that's Glory I'm going to kick her ass all the way down to hell if I have to. She looked around her room and realized Angel wasn't back yet. Her brow furrowed and she wondered where her roommate had gone. Buffy guessed she shouldn't be too worried; it was almost 3, Angel had three or so hours to get back. She sighed, Angel was a big boy, he knew when to come back.  
  
Slowly making her way down the stairs, Buffy flattened out her messy hair. Bed-heads really sucked. She reached the doorknob and flung it open. Expecting to find some kind of minion of evil or whatever, but she instead saw a crying Willow on her doorstep, eyes red and puffy from obvious hours of crying. Buffy looked at her best friend, dumfounded for a couple seconds. "Willow..." she said, hugging her friend.  
  
"Oh, Buffy..." the redhead cried, falling into Buffy's embrace. "I - I'm a bad, bad person!"  
  
"No, no," Buffy said, holding Willow in her arms. "You're not, really," she leaned back and looked into Willow's swollen green eyes. "Come in."  
  
Buffy lead her in, taking her into the living room where they both sat, Willow on the couch and Buffy on the coffee table. "You want something to drink? I can make tea," she offered but Willow shook her head and Buffy frowned. "No tea?"  
  
"I'm so sorry, Buffy," Willow said, wiping away her tears. "I didn't mean to appear up on your doorstep like this, it's just that I think Tara might be in danger."  
  
"What? Why?" Buffy asked, worried about Willow's lover. Tara had been an essential part of their team, their family and Buffy knew how much Tara meant to Willow and how devastated she would become if anything happened to Tara. Willow started to break down again and Buffy took Willow's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "What happened?"  
  
"Well we were sorta having a fight," Willow said, getting up and pacing in the space between the sofa and the coffee table. "I mean, yeah, I know couples usually do have fights, but me and Tara? We never had fights, it was like we fit... perfectly, you know? A - and then tonight, we did, have a fight. I said stuff that she misinterpreted and then we did the whole yelling thing and she left and I've been waiting for her to come back, but it's been like hours and, what with Glory out there, I can't stop thinking that she might be in serious danger, Buffy... maybe even dead."  
  
"No," Buffy said forcefully. "No, Tara is not dead!" she put her hands on her friend's shoulders. "We're going to find her and bring her back, okay? We'll go right now."  
  
"W - what about Dawn?" Willow asked.  
  
Buffy sighed, mentally cursing. "You're right. I - uh, we'll get Spike. We'll stop by his crypt and tell him to keep an eye on Dawn until we get back." Dawn was about the only person she trusted with Spike. Spike had saved Dawn from being discovered and she was going to be forever grateful for it.  
  
"Thanks, Buffy," Willow smiled, her eyes shining with new hope.  
  
Buffy returned the gesture. "That's what I'm good at, isn't it?"  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Spike flipped through the channels of his brand new TV and sat straight up when he saw come to a channel showing a rerun of today's Passions. Looks like helping the Slayer and her little Scooby Gang had paid off after all. Damn, this thing even had a VCR recorder. Spike tucked his hands behind his head and listened to the soap opera blaring through his small crypt. Nothing like a nighttime episode of Passions.  
  
Then of course, night was sometimes when Buffy threw down the door and told him she needed his undivided attention. And the irony never failed him because the blonde little Slayer started to pound on the door with her mighty little fists. Spike sighed, Buffy always did her best to interrupt a good night of telly time. Grumbling, he got off the chair and opening up the door to find not just Buffy, but her little witch friend, Willow.  
  
"For God's sake, Slayer, I'm not deaf," he sneered, but his eyes wandered up and down her outfit. Tight red leather pants and a white tank top. The pants fit every curve and hugged her hips like it was her second skin. The tank top perfectly shaped her breasts and it dipped low down on her chest for Spike to get a tantalizing glance of her cleavage. If only he could feel her lips on his one last time...  
  
"Spike, I need you to watch Dawn for me," she ordered, interrupting his fantasy, her stance rigid, Spike could see the outline of her toned muscles and it turned him on. "Just for a couple of hours."  
  
"What's in it for me?" Spike asked, leaning against the doorway, smirking. "If it's money, I want 200 cash."  
  
Buffy glared at Spike, venomously. Then she grabbed him by the shirt, throwing him across the room. He landed with a loud thud before she was on him again, punching him in the face three times. "It isn't a favor, it's an order. Tara's in trouble and I don't have time for your games."  
  
"Since when did I become you fucking slave?" Spike said, wiping the blood from his nose.  
  
"Tara's in danger," Buffy said. "We need to find her, but I also need someone to stay with Dawn," she sighed when Spike didn't look convinced. "Look, I'll try and pay you after we find her."  
  
"What makes you think the witch's alive?" Spike said, propping himself up on his elbows.  
  
"Shut up," Willow's voice came from outside. She had a murderous look on her face and suddenly Spike was more afraid of Tara's partner than Buffy. The determination in the witch was powerful and almost surreal.  
  
"Well, not that I think that she kicked the bucket or anything - "  
  
"Spike!" Buffy growled, shoving her boot onto his chest, she really didn't have time for his yammering. "Are you going to help or not?!"  
  
"Yeah, whatever," he said, as Buffy took her foot off his chest. "I'll be at the house in two."  
  
"Thanks," she bit out, turning on her heal to the door.  
  
"Oh, hey, Buffy," Spike called after her. Buffy whirled around, blonde hair whipping everywhere. Her eyes pierced his skin with deadly intentions. "It's not good to kiss your ex when he's slept with his sire."  
  
Buffy would have punched him until he resembled nothing of his former self, but more pressing issues were at stake, no pun intended. She glared at him, turning back around and slamming his door. He could almost feel the heated rage radiating off the small Slayer.  
  
Spike smiled to himself. He could smell the pounce on her since she came in, that two timing asshole who banged Darla. Word traveled fast on the demonic gossip grapevine. He laughed. And telling by the expression on her face, it looked like she had already known. The stupid Poof was probably sulking somewhere around Sunnydale right now. Oh well, he'd just watch the destruction fold itself out and then swoop Buffy off her feet. Haha, Angelus was going down.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
"Tara!"  
  
Both Willow and Buffy ran wildly through one of the graveyards that plagued Sunnydale. They had just done a location spell and had seen something turn up, but it was clouded by a... unnatural force. But they still ran toward whatever it was. Willow prayed and prayed that it was Tara and nothing was wrong with her. Tara was her everything, if anything happened to her, Willow didn't know if she could forgive herself. Shaking her head, she blocked the scary thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on finding her girlfriend.  
  
"Tara, baby! Where are you?!" she yelled out into the cold darkness. She looked toward Buffy and felt herself grow concerned. Spike has said something about Angel sleeping with his sire. Darla, she vaguely remembered, but Angel had killed her, dusted her. And he would never...  
  
Buffy abruptly stopped and Willow stopped alongside her. "What is it?" Willow asked.  
  
"Don't you hear it..." she thought she could her something. Struggling. Yeah, that was it. Someone was it trouble. "Tara!" she yelled and started running toward the noise, Willow close behind her. "Tara!"  
  
Buffy jumped over a gravestone and stopped immediately at what she saw, Willow came up behind her and gasped. It was Tara and Angel. Tara looked evidently alright, but it was Angel who looked like he was in more trouble. He was twisting and turning in Tara's grasp, who tried to sooth the vampire. She gave him soft words and tried to hold him stable.  
  
"Angel!" Buffy yelled as the both of them ran towards the other two. "Angel, oh my God, what happened?!"  
  
"Glory," Tara cried. "Glory, she was here. Angel... he tried to protect me. Oh God, I tried to get her off him, b - but it was too late. She got him, Buffy. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."  
  
"No, it's too cold, too cold," he whimpered into Buffy as she took a hold of him. She watched with wide eyes as Angel shivered under her touch, his beautiful face contorted in pain. He moaned and shoved himself deeper into Buffy's arms. "Cold..."  
  
Willow took Tara in an air tight hug, both of them crying into each other's shoulders. Willow kept whispering apologies and Tara just shook her head and said it was okay. "Oh, Tara, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have made you leave," her voice hitched. "I'm so glad you're alright."  
  
Tara cried into Willow's embrace. "I - I couldn't stop her. Glory's too strong," she sobbed. "It's all my fault, Willow."  
  
Angel squeezed his eyes shut as he murmured incomparable words that made no sense to anyone's ears. Sometimes he'd mumble words in different languages, Buffy couldn't identify which ones. All she felt was guilt, like her whole conscious was soaked in it. She should have stopped him; she should have at least reminded him about Glory. She had been selfish again, giving into her emotions and feelings. Closing her eyes, Buffy breathed out and swallowed back the tears. But wasn't she the Slayer who relied on emotions? Who fought using the fuel that her mind and heart gave her. She was supposed to be the damn Slayer for crying out loud, she was supposed to be the girl who rid the world of evil. God, she was supposed to be strong.  
  
You feel it, right? How the anger gives you fire? A Slayer needs that.  
  
But lately she had shut it off, turned down the passion that her feelings gave her and instead used techniques and delicately planned out strategies. She so desperately wanted to see the world in black and white. Fire bad, tree pretty. Then again, she should be the last person on earth to say things should be plainly right or wrong. The one person she had loved so dearly was a vampire with a soul who could go evil in a blind instant.  
  
"Angel," she said, holding his head in her lap. "Angel, can you hear me?"  
  
He just kept mumbling as he shivered and trembled. "Can't... can't. Dirty... it's all dirty."  
  
Tara crawled over to where Buffy sat with Angel. She watched as the vampire's eyes just stared at nothing in particular. Tara bit her tongue when she saw the emptiness that reflected itself in Angel. He was trapped in a box of darkness and ice with no hope or light to cling to, incapable to communicate to the outer world. "B - Buffy... I'm sorry - "  
  
"No," Buffy stopped Tara, "it's not your fault. It's not anyone's except Glory's. Glory is responsible for this," Buffy said, her voice filled only by rage and vengeance. "She's going to pay for what she did."  
  
Willow gave Buffy a sorrowful look. "We could try curing him. I mean, we could find a spell to undo all... this."  
  
Buffy nodded, looking down at the fallen angel. He still shook beneath her touch. She blinked away more threatening tears. "Shhh, you're going to be okay," she soothed, although not really sure if she trusted her own words.  
  
"We should get him inside," Tara said, remembering it was only a couple hours before dawn and getting Angel to Buffy's house was going to take a little longer.  
  
Buffy nodded, wiping her face of the cold. "Yeah," she agreed. She gently lifted Angel off of her, telling him to stand up like she was talking to a toddler. "Angel, come on, we have to get inside."  
  
Angel stood up on his own, but looked around with glazed eyes. He looked as if he was lost and couldn't find anyone to bring him back. "Cold..." he kept saying, which was a little odd since Angel had no real body temperature. Buffy gently took a hold on his hand and started to lead him back the way they came. Her house was maybe a fifteen minute walk from the graveyard if you were going at a brisk pace; it'd take the four of them twenty, maybe thirty, minutes to get home.  
  
Angel's grip on her hand was like steel as if he were holding on for dear life, but he didn't look afraid or frightened when Buffy turned her head towards him. She really didn't see anything remotely resembling an emotion of fear, just blank glances and stares. She decided to take it as a good sign; at least he wasn't totally unresponsive.  
  
Buffy took a quick glance towards the two wiccans, they were both huddled together, hands and fingers entwined, watching out for any signs of danger that might be sighted as evil. Willow gently kissed Tara's head and Buffy quickly turned her attention back to the front and started to walk faster, Angel keeping up with her pace. "We're almost there," she whispered.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Twenty minutes later they arrived up on Revello Drive and inside the Summers' house. Buffy quickly pounded on the door, hoping Spike wasn't a sleep on the couch although she knew chances were he was. "Spike!" she called, once again slamming her fist against the door frame. "Spike you son of a bitch, open the goddamn door!" Angel shied away from Buffy as she yelled and pounded on the door; Willow took his hand and held it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.  
  
Spike suddenly threw the door open, glaring angrily at the small Slayer, his hair disheveled in every which way. His ice blue eyes met her daring green ones. "Don't you people carry around keys or something?" he asked, as Buffy, Willow, Tara and Angel pushed pass him. He sighed and closed the door behind him, scratching the back of his head. "So, seeing as how you're all here, I'm guess the little witch didn't get eaten after all."  
  
Willow glared at him and Spike just smiled, also taking not of the fact that his big, broody sire had muttered a word to him yet - in fact, the lunk head hadn't seemed to say anything at all, he just sat there on the couch like a stupid rock. Spike quirked an eyebrow to the brown haired vampire, but decided to keep his tongue quiet. There was something... wrong about his grandsire that was starting to affect him, sending weird vibes up and down his spine.  
  
"The little Nibbit was sleeping like a baby when I got here," he informed as Buffy as she rushed into the bathroom to get medical supplies for Tara and Angel who were both a little banged up from the looks of it. "No trouble at all, really."  
  
Buffy ignored his chattering as she swept by him, holding the first aid kit. Her hair left a sweet scent of her shampoo in the air and Spike inhaled, taking it all in. He felt the anger and fury that was flourishing inside her and all he wanted to do was fuck it out of her tiny body. Just to run his hands in her golden locks and down her luscious curves. Of course, with what's-his-face over there, Spike wasn't going to check that one off his to-do list. He wasn't on her mortal plane, figuratively and literally, she had some higher substance that he just couldn't touch; but obviously Angel and his stupid soul could, the bloody bastard was supposed to be tormented by the damn thing, not gifted by it. Although, soul or no, Angel could always touch what Spike couldn't. Angel was always one step higher, one pace farther. It made Spike sick with disgust and, frankly, envy. Like there was a stone lodged in his throat and all he could taste was gravel and dirt while Angel sat there drinking the finest wines in the world.  
  
Shaking his head, Spike cleared his head of jealous thoughts. Focusing on the band of people who just marched their way into the living room. He crossed his arms and walked over to where Buffy was sitting across Angel on the coffee table. She mended his scratches and bruises like a bloody nurse, which were all going to go away by the time dawn broke the sky. He watched her tenderly dab the blood off Angel's face as he looked at her with blank emotion. Spike looked harder at his grandsire; Angel looked odd - or at least more odd than he usually did. The emotions that stirred beneath his eyes was gone, all that was left was a shell of Spike's nancy of a sire.  
  
He shifted a glance toward Buffy who disregarded him and kept on cleaning her little puppy with fangs. Spike looked for the two wiccans and saw them huddled together a couple paces away from him. They held onto each other as they too watched Buffy and Angel. Both of their eyes were swollen and glazed, noses red and rosy. Spike quirked an eyebrow at all of this and decided to ask what the hell was going on, "Um, so... what's up with tall, dark and ugly over here?"  
  
"Spike, shut up," Buffy growled, turning Angel's head to wipe away the dry blood that collected itself on his temples. "Go home. I'll give you the money tomorrow."  
  
"Like hell you will! I'm not leaving here without my babysitting money!" Spike gave her an angry glare, but she didn't even bother to look back at him. "I came here on an emergency call, Slayer. It wasn't something planned ahead."  
  
She turned her head to him, her lips in a firm line. "I don't have time for your whining, Spike. Angel's in trouble," she said. Angel's eyes still staring ahead.  
  
"Oh, it's Angel. I'm so sorry," Spike retorted, "but I don't give a rat's ass about him. He's got like two scratches on his head and you're acting like he's got a bloody stake shoved in his chest or something - "  
  
"Angel got attacked by Glory!" Buff bit out, her eyes glistened with threatening tears. Her lip quivered a bit, but she stopped it from going too far. Yet she could feel the lump in her throat start to swell and her vision blurred to where she couldn't see anything but watery images. A tear slipped down her face and she finally started to sob, she finally started to let it all out. The bottle that held all her emotions in finally popped and burst from the very bottom of her heart. "She killed him, she killed my Angel..."  
  
Spike gave her a sympathetic look and put a reassuring hand on her back as she sobbed into her hands. Willow and Tara came up from behind her, Willow hugging her best friend as she cried. Tara whispered comforting words into Buffy's ear as she smoothed out the golden blonde hair that ran down the Slayer's shoulders. Angel just stared at them, shifting uncomfortably.  
  
Buffy stole a glance toward Angel and started to cry harder, the tears never seeming to end. The look on his face was so alone and forgotten, like he was the only one left on the world and no one would come back for him. She wanted to hold him forever and tell him he she would always come back for him. He was the only one who broke the ice that formed around her heart, but when he left the ice froze her heart all over again. Riley and Parker hadn't shown her true love; Riley tried his hardest, she had to admit, and Parker was just a one night fling. No one ever came close to remaking what she and Angel had.  
  
"What happened?" Spike asked, looking to Willow for answers, but Tara answered instead.  
  
"G - glory, sh - she... c - came and attacked m - me," Tara stuttered, not really comfortable talking to the vampire. "Angel tried to save me, there was a big battle and a - all. B - but Glory won, sh - she took his m - mind, a -ate it. I - I managed to s - send her away... but..." she gave Spike a small glance before looking away. "Angel's insane."  
  
Spike looked at the two, bewildered at what happened to his grandsire. A part of him was laughing at Angel, dancing in his ashes and skipping on his grave. He had always wanted to see Angel fall and break, laugh at the fucking bastard. Then a part of him was enraged, furious that a creature could do this to Angelus, his sire. He hated the fact that he saw Angel like this, bruised and torn up. He looked up to the damn guy, seeing him like this tore Spike up inside. Angelus never broke, never. He looked toward Angel, saw the insanity that plagued his mind and cringed. Glory would pay.  
  
"So, you're saying our buddy Angel over here isn't up to par anymore?" Spike asked, inwardly fuming.  
  
Willow nodded, grimly. "Well, until Tara and I find a spell that might reverse what ever happened to him," she looked to her girlfriend. "We will, won't we, baby?"  
  
Tara nodded. "We will," but the look in her sad eyes told them otherwise. 


	9. Chapter 9

:D Wheeee.  
  
Sorry for totally not updating for a while. :[ I'm a poop head, I know.  
  
But yes, I'm still mourning over the loss of A:tS. Not Fade Away was the best thing ever, was it not?  
  
Okay, some notes:  
  
1) Uh, I have no idea how Willow and Tara's dorm is set up. I don't think there's a bed under their window. Shoot me for not knowing. 2) I know there's probably more weird/strange/annoying thing wrong. Humour me.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
**Chapter 9**  
  
Buffy sat diagonal to Angel, her feet tucked under her as she held a small coffee mug that read, "Smile, be Happy!" a bright yellow smiley face was painted on the side. She sipped the black liquid after blowing on it to cool the temperature. The caffeinated drink went down her throat and it burnt a little, she closed her eyes to sooth the tingling pain as it subsided. Coffee was the only thing that kept her going sometimes, the barrier between sleeping and... not.  
  
But Angel was asleep on the couch; tucked under a wool blanket, his head on the arm rest. He slept soundly, something different from when he returned from hell, but Buffy still sat close by if anything went wrong. She rubbed her arm with her free hand and took another sip from her mug. She might have looked calm and collected, sitting there with Angel, but on the inside her mind was reeling, trying to figure out what to do. She guessed she should call Angel's crew down in LA, but decided to wait till morning. She sighed, morning was almost here, she would have to move Angel up to her bedroom if she didn't want him to turn to ashes.  
  
Willow and Tara had gone home two hours earlier, they each said their goodbyes and condolences, telling Buffy that they would look for the spell first thing in the morning with Giles. Spike was actually still here, Buffy didn't know why, but she didn't really care anymore. She guessed it was better if Spike stayed here because if Glory showed up, Buffy didn't think she'd have the energy to protect Dawn and Angel. Her head was still spinning from tonight's events.  
  
Angel stirred a bit and her eyes jumped toward him, but looked away when she realized he wasn't getting up. Buffy didn't know how Cordelia was going to react to all of this, although she'd probably try to kill Buffy first. Buffy was actually a little grateful at the fact that Angel, Cordelia and that other Irish guy, Doyle, she remembered. It made her feel good that there were people taking care of him. Yeah, she had to admit that she felt a little jealous over the fact that Angel was now hanging around Cordelia, but realized that Cordelia only served as a friendly figure - not someone who really took romantic interest in Angel. Buffy was glad that Angel had friends, he had never had any real friends in Sunnydale and she was grateful that his detective agency was their to fill in that gap.  
  
God, but where had they been when Angel had went into his so called "spiral?" Didn't they try to catch him when he fell? Buffy frowned when she remembered that Angel had really slept with Darla; not Angelus, but Angel, the man she fell in love with. His insides wanted to jump out when she pictured him having sex with his sire, Darla saying his name when she came and visa versa. It was just down right gross and disturbing to Buffy. Then, of course, she guessed Angel really had been in a dark place. She knew Angel, and she knew that he would never sleep with that bitch. Tears stung her eyes when she thought about Angel trying to commit suicide, to unleash Angelus and return to the ether. She bit her lip, knowing Angel didn't know what kind of strength he possessed, what kind of good he could do.  
  
Deciding it was time to get Angel upstairs, she put the coffee mug on the table and stretched her limbs, yawning. Her body was stiff and tense as she tried to loosen the knots that formed in her muscles. Turning to Angel's sleeping figure, she gently caressed his face, telling him it was time to get up. "Angel, sweetie, we have to go up stairs. Angel..."  
  
He blinked his eyes slowly as Buffy pushed the blanket off of him. She wondered why she had put it there in the first place since, technically, vampires didn't have body temperatures, but decided it was just an act of common courtesy. She smiled when he looked up at her, but inwardly flinched when she saw how... plain those eyes were, unlike the soulful, kind, loving ones she used to look into. Putting on another fake smile, she helped Angel get up; he looked at her now with wide eyes.  
  
Buffy looked back as Angel followed her upstairs, his hands occasionally dragging against the wall as he murmured quietly to himself. His fingers ran against multiple pictures that hung on the wall, almost knocking one over if Buffy hadn't caught it. She gave him a concerned look, but he didn't even give her a glance. His eyes either on the ceiling or the walls. Buffy pulled him along, peeking into Dawn's room before leading Angel into her's.  
  
He sat on her bed as she quietly shut her door, then turning around to lean on it and let out a small breath. She shut her eyes for a moment, not wanting to open them ever again. She didn't want to see the hopelessness in his eyes. She wanted to wake up from this bad dream AFTER scratching Glory's eyes out and feeding them to Spike. The hell goddess was going to pay what she did to Angel.  
  
She reluctantly opened her eyes to see Angel lying down on the bed, his back facing the window. Buffy wanted to breakdown and cry. It was like having the shell of her former lover walk around her house and it was killing her to see him like this. She wasn't sure if she was ever going to see the real Angel again, the man she fell in love with, he'd just become a lost cause - but maybe Tara and Willow would find that spell and restore him to his rightful state, maybe everything would turn out right in the end and Glory would be defeated just like all the other enemies they've faced.  
  
Then again, if it wasn't for Angel, she would have died trying to defeat the hell goddess and earth would crumble to ruins. God, the thought was too eerie; she would have died if Angel hadn't warned her. Dead. Gone. Forever.  
  
But it was oddly settling to her. If she died it meant she was finished with her work, why she was put on this earth in the first place. She would have done her part and it was time for the next Slayer, or even Faith, to save the world. Buffy Summers would finish her chapter. She could finally move on. Finally be free.  
  
She slowly crept up behind Angel and she could feel his skin quiver under her touch. It was cold, colder than she remembered - his neck, his face, his beautiful hands - they were all so cold. Then she wondered if they had always felt like this, of ice and wind, but she just didn't seem to notice. She was so foreign to his touch that she had forgotten what he felt like, how cool he was, not warm like Riley or Parker. She wrapped her arms around his, entwining his unresponsive fingers in her's. Angel, Angel, Angel.  
  
Who was she kidding? She had never been foreign with his body. Yeah, she and Riley did the funky a lot, but it was her and Angel's lack of sex which made them so deeply in love. They knew each other's insides and outs, their strengths as well as their flaws, they could trust each other. Buffy didn't know that kind of trust with Riley, not really, yet she denied it to Angel in LA. A horrible mistake on her part.  
  
She quietly sighed as she put her head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his hair. Jasmine. It always smelled of Jasmine. Jasmine with a small hit of leather; always leather. They suited him very well, Buffy had to admit. Jasmine only bloomed when the sun slept, carrying a most elegant look; and leather - well, Angel and leather just connected. The fabric itself could stand the tests of time and still held this bad ass feel to it. Buffy smiled a bit and squeezed Angel's hand as she closed her eyes with nothing but bittersweet memories.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Willow and Tara walked slowly across the threshold of their college dorm room, neither of them saying a word since they left Buffy's house. The walk took almost a little over an hour, the UC Sunnydale being a far ways away from where Buffy lived. On the way Willow thought about stopping at Giles' place on the way, fill him in on the 411, but decided against it knowing things would be much more... clear in the morning.  
  
Although, she had to admit, things were very, very far from clear. They were downright murky. This whole thing with Buffy almost dying and now Angel all insane. It gave Willow a very sinking feeling in her stomach, like when she was waiting for the teacher to pass out a test - except a million times worse. Almost as if she wanted to throw up on the floor, cry and scream until her throat became raw with pain. But all she really wanted to do was lie next to Tara and hope that everything turned out for the best tomorrow.  
  
But they both just stood a footstep away from their doorframe; hands still clasped together, a feeling of dread washing over the both of them as they just stared into the dark room. Willow looked through the small window and saw the stars twinkling in the sky. The moon was full and poured its light through the small opening of their dorm room. Willow's eyes welled with tears as she watched the still night sky. Everything up there was so peaceful, so surreal. The moon hung above all its star children and watched them dance and shine in the black blanket where they all lay. There was nothing that could disturb Her and her children, not even if the world below crashed and burned.  
  
"D - do you think we're going to find the spell?" Tara asked, turning her head toward Willow.  
  
Willow sighed, her shoulders slumping. Tara noticed how tired she now looked. "Honestly?"  
  
Tara lead Willow to her bed, they both sat across each other and held both hands together. Willow's green eyes glistened with tears and Tara planted a sweet kiss onto her forehead as a small droplet of salty crystal escaped her eye. Willow looked up to Tara. "Honestly, I think this is all just too hard. I'm not really... sure if there's going be a spell to restore Angel's mind, he's been lucky once before with his soul, but I'm not really positive if he's going to come out of this one," she sighed, looking down at her fingers. "But," she pursed her lips, "I guess we gotta look on the bright, sunny side, right? At least, for Buffy's sake."  
  
Tara nodded. "We will - we are - looking on the sunny side. Angel and Buffy are going to be fine." Willow smiled at Tara's small insight. Then again, she'd smile at whatever Tara did.  
  
"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Willow asked, modestly.  
  
Tara smiled with her loving eyes and beautiful lips. "Everyday," she pulled Willow down with her and they both lay silently on the bed, both of their heads rested on Tara's pillow as they looked up at the bare ceiling. It could have been much more romantic with candles and maybe some of that romantic music that were always on late night commercials, but right now wasn't the time for that - well, maybe it wouldn't hurt, but this moment was more suitable for cuddles and hugs.  
  
"Were you scared?" Willow asked, still looking up at the air above her. She turned her head to look at Tara. "I mean, when Glory was there? Well, I guess everyone's afraid, even Buffy, but was it like..."  
  
"Yeah, I was scared," Tara said, looking to Willow. "I was very scared, but I think I was even more scared that if Glory... you know, got us - Angel and I - she'd go after you and I couldn't let her take me away from you."  
  
Willow smiled and pressed a kiss against Tara's shoulder. "I love you so much. Remind me, when we get Angel back to... Angel, to tell him thank you."  
  
Tara grimaced and shifted her body onto its side, facing Willow. "So he does that a lot? Save people, I mean?"  
  
Willow nodded, rolling her eyes in a playful manner. "Oh yeah," she smiled. "He's was like our knight in not-so-shiny armor. When he and Buffy were together, they were like an unstoppable force."  
  
"Then why'd he leave?"  
  
Willow shrugged her shoulders. "I guess because of Angel being, well, you know, all vampy and stuff. Although Buffy was so heartbroken when he left for LA, it was like he tore her heart out.  
  
((I can't breathe, Will. I feel like I can't breathe.))  
  
"I don't think she's ever really gotten over him. He's like - well, he's Angel. He used to be her everything. I don't know, maybe he still is."  
  
Tara thought for a moment. She hadn't really spent a lot of time with Angel other than inside the Summers' house and when Glory tried to pair the both of them up with death. But with the time she was with Angel, she felt his aura, his being, give off this incredible warmth and light, which had to be a little ironic considering he was a vampire. Yet vampire with a soul, none the less.  
  
She pursed her lips when she thought about Riley. Tara definitely knew Riley much better, but she oddly felt safer with Angel, besides the fact that he kept her from certain death tonight. Before she met Angel, she honestly thought that Riley and Buffy made the cute, all American couple, save the fact that Buffy was a Vampire Slayer and Riley was a part of the Initiative. Maybe because Riley was so all American, she guessed, he did live on a farm in Iowa, corn fed and all. But after tonight, she could positively say that Angel was Buffy's perfect match, maybe even soul mate.  
  
But Tara just had to ask, "What about Riley?"  
  
"Riley?" Willow raised an eyebrow. "Well... I guess Buffy liked him, but there just wasn't that same spark in her eyes. Her eyes used to glitter when she gushed about Angel and Xander would either try to stop her or drown it out."  
  
Tara smiled as she pictured Xander ignoring Buffy's small rambles. "Xander didn't really like Angel?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Willow said. "Especially after Angel went bad; Xander just couldn't seem to trust Angel anymore. I guess I could understand from where his hostility came from though, God, when Angel was all soulless and evil... it was bad. Angelus even killed Giles' girlfriend."  
  
"Wow," Tara said softly. Willow had once told her about how Angel was once a ruthless vampire, so cruel that even other vampires would cower before him. Angelus. "Must have been bad."  
  
"It was," Willow sighed. "I love Angel and all, but he was quite the bastard back when he was trying to kill us all. He got under everybody's skin; he could literally drive you insane. Killed my fish."  
  
"Your fish?" Tara asked, not knowing if she should be sympathetic considering they were just... fish. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Nah," Willow made a small face. "I didn't even give them names," she paused. "Not that one gives their fishes names."  
  
Tara laughed and it made Willow's heart flutter; just to hear Tara laugh was like listening to a symphony of love and passion, however corny that sounded. Tara smiled and kissed Willow's lips, then her nose. "Just try to go to sleep, I think we've got long day ahead of us."  
  
"Definitely," Willow agreed, yawning. "Love you forever."  
  
"Love you forever."  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
_It was like she was flying, all she could feel was the wind wiping in her hair and cool tears slide down her cheeks. Everything in the world was passing her by as she was finally suspended in midair. She could feel the energy course through her veins as a silent scream escaped her lips, but there was so much noise and no one could hear her. Pain laced its slippery fingers through her heart and crushed with a sickening noise. The energy stopped and everything stopped. She had stopped.  
  
She fell.  
  
She heard her neck snap on impact, her chin hitting the floor with so much force that it snapped her head back and her jaw broken. She could feel her kneecaps crack as they shattered in ugly pieces. But there's no pain. It just feels so... wrong. Everything's wrong because she can suddenly see all of them. They're looking down at her body and they're all too shocked to speak because their savior - friend - has died. She's finally lost, hair matted in blotchy blood patches, eyes still glaring at the scene before her.  
  
And she can hear Willow's sobs and Spike's screams. It's all far away, but it's there. She can smell the salt tears slowly falling down everyone's faces, but somehow she can't bring herself to care - not because she didn't, but because she couldn't. She couldn't feel, she couldn't even be. The only thing she could do was ask herself, "How is Angel going to react to all of this?" Because that's all she cares about right now. Angel.  
  
She closes her eyes and finally she sees him. There's Cordelia and Wesley, two other people she can't recognize, and one green demon. She can see his soulful brown eyes look at Willow's green ones with deep, dark knowing. Because Angel always knows. He knows she has died and her heart breaks in two when she hears him speak. His voice was so hallow and empty - she's never heard it so full of nothing. She wants to caress his face and tell him she's standing right here, but she can't because her limbs aren't moving and all she can do is think.  
  
"It's Buffy."  
  
Willow's red hair shakes slowly as she nods her head, tears starting to fall down her face and everything is starting to become tense and awkward for everyone else besides Angel and Willow. Buffy stares at her best friends and silently tells her that it's going to be okay, because she wasn't going to die - or she never was supposed to...  
  
"Angel?" Cordelia's voice is far and somewhat distant. Buffy hadn't come to notice the weird and ostentatious... clothes she was wearing, but they glittered under the light and it hurt to look at all the gold beady things. The beautiful brunette put a comforting hand on Angel's shoulder and Buffy wanted to cringe. She was causing him all this pain and CORDELIA was the one tending to him. It made horrible sense and she wanted to scream and cry and tell him that she would be alright.  
  
Buffy watched as Willow walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, sobs now starting to escape from her throat. "She was so brave, Angel. You would have been so proud of her..." Willow cried harder. "You would have been so proud." And Angel just held her back, not saying anything - not ready to say anything. He just held Willow as she cried into his chest.  
  
Wesley and the rest quietly said their condolences, trying to comfort the two as much as possible. The small, scrawny looking girl put a hesitant hand on his shoulder, but didn't say anything Buffy could here. All off them made a small circle around him, but he didn't look at either of them, just stared ahead. Maybe he could see her... just maybe.  
  
Then Willow pulled back and wiped her tears, her eyes now all red and puffy. She took Angel's hands in hers and he finally looked at her. "She really loved you, she always loved you, remember that okay?" Willow said, her voice cracking at some point. She gave Angel one last hug and a small kiss on the cheek before turning around and walking back through the front doors, closing them almost too quietly.  
  
Too quiet  
  
Then, finally, Angel's tears started to fall and Buffy's heart broke for one last time.  
  
Watching his tears fall, she quietly whispered, "I'm still your girl?"  
  
And, maybe, if you listened really hard, you could almost here Angel's answer: "Always."  
  
((You still my girl? Always.))  
  
If I should die before I wake...  
_  
- - - - - - - - - -  



	10. Chapter 10

Wheee! look everyone, it's another chapter! :D thanks for all the reviews! i feel so luved. :]

um. i was just skimming through chapter nine a while ago. and does jasmine even bloom at nite? it does rite? see, i just kind of write all this nonsense and it hardly ever makes sense. tsk tsk tsk. for shame.

anyways. i dont _think_ there's anything wrong here. hm.

but on a side note: I don't think the chapters will be coming faster than this, especially chapter 12 and beyond because 1) finals are two weeks from now. eeeh! and 2) I originally wrote this before ever signing onto ff.net and that's why the chapters have been faster than they would normally come out.

did that even make sense? even if it makes the kind of sense that doesnt, we're all good.

oh! one more thing. I think there's a line in here from Vanessa Carlton's "Paradise."

- - - - - - - - - -

**Chapter 10**  
  
Buffy awoke with a gasp, her chest heaving for air like she had just been suffocated, sweat clung to her forehead and she tried to calm her breathing. She rose onto her elbows, turning to see Angel still lying next to her. Good, it was still dark. Her cheeks were stained with salty tears and she could feel the swollen feeling of her eyes. What - why was she crying?  
  
Oh God, the dream. Her dream. She had died. She had seen Angel... seen his heart break in two. Buffy took a deep breath. She just saw herself die. She didn't know whether she was going to break into another sob or laugh at the ridiculous idea because Angel was here and he promised he wouldn't let her go. He'd never let her go.  
  
But then of course Angel was now very mentally unstable and wasn't even in good enough shape to say a complete sentence.  
  
And Buffy sobbed. She felt herself shake with tears. It shook her body as much as her soul and it physically hurt; she didn't know why. Like her body was thrown into a blender and it was now all broken. Angel, she mentally cried, but she knew he would never be able to hear her because he was know blind to the world, he now only knows the inside of his mind... the inside where there is only darkness.  
  
She hadn't brought herself to think of a world without Angel, she couldn't let herself think of a world without Angel. She had already lived it once. The summer spent in the dankest, darkest parts of Los Angeles, the summer just after she sent Angel to hell. It was a world of lost souls and scary memories. It was a world of people without any beliefs or hopes. She had become a lost cause because, without Angel in her world, she wasn't Buffy Summers. Maybe she was still the Slayer, but she wasn't Buffy anymore. The Slayer didn't know how to love, didn't know how to feel or accept it, but Buffy did. And Angel loved Buffy, he even loved the Slayer.  
  
Loved? Loves? Buffy wasn't sure.  
  
((Forever. That's the whole point, I'll never leave.))  
  
And then she felt his gentle hands wrap around her body and, for one blip of a second, it was like she was touching her Angel again. It was like he was holding her again, but reality steals her away and she realizes it's not Angel - it is, but it's not him, but the fact that he knows that she's hurting and he knows - or remembers - that he always held her, makes her heart warm. His arms are loose around her's and she holds him back, crying and crying into his shoulder. "Angel..."  
  
He doesn't say anything. No soft cooing, Buffy couldn't even tell if he was breathing, but it didn't matter because now she knew Angel wasn't completely unfunctional. She could feel him hug her tighter as she clung to his shirt.  
  
She didn't know how long they sat there together. It felt like just minutes, but had turned out to be almost around two hours because the sun was now softly peeking through her closed window. They both hadn't moved since, just crying and holding and feeling. At least Buffy was doing all three. She had broken down multiple times before and Angel still held her.  
  
She wanted to sit there and weep all her troubles away - that would be the easiest way to get rid of everything around her, but she had to call LA. She had to tell everyone else what had happened the night before. She had so much to do. So much to take care of. Dawn. Angel. Glory. Everyone else in this goddamn world. But it was her job. Sacred duty or whatever. Weight of the world, right?  
  
After prying Angel's hands off and letting him sit quietly on her bed, out of reach from the sun's grasp, she closed her door and walked into her bathroom, turning the shower handle so it gave off hot water. Nothing cold, she didn't want cold. Everything these days was cold and nothing felt warm.  
  
Hot.  
  
Soap and water. She felt too dirty and unclean. There was so much on her skin and she wanted to scratch it all off. She scrubbed and scrubbed, but it wouldn't come off. It wasn't coming off. "Get off, get off..." she cried, rubbing the suds along her arms and legs and stomach. There was another sob and she bit her tongue. No, no more crying. She cried too much already. Crying was done. No more. She would be strong, she would be victorious.  
  
Then why did she feel like she was going to lose it?  
  
_As darkness quickly steals the light that shines within her eyes..._  
  
She sobbed again for what seemed to be the billionth time this morning and she held a hand up to her mouth, trying to make herself physically stop. She leaned herself against the steamy tiles and shut her eyes. No more tears. There would be no more tears. But the more she told herself that, the more she began to cry.  
  
No, just stop it.  
  
The water was starting to get cold and Buffy felt her skin start to shiver. She quickly turned the handles off, stopping it from getting tool chilly. When everything stopped, all she could hear was the small, constant sound of water dripping from the shower head, her hair, her body. Drip, drip, drip. It was never really silent.  
  
_Drip, drip, drip._  
  
Slowly, she slid open the shower door and stepped onto the plush carpet. It was soft beneath her foot, so soft; but it quickly became damp and wet.  
  
Another foot. She now stood completely out of the shower, her hair dripping down her back. So cold. She reached for a towel and slowly wrapped it across her body. It too was soft, but soon feeling like the rug beneath her feet - wet and cold. Coldcoldcold. So cold. She pivoted herself so she was facing her reflection. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was near pale. She knew she had lost a lot of wait since high school, maybe too much, but that was the least of her worries right now. She shivered again.  
  
Then the door quickly swung open and Spike popped his head through the door. Buffy jumped a little and hugged the towel closer to her body. "Spike!" she yelped, angry at the blonde vampire for opening the door without so much as a knock. Wiping her teary eyes, she glared at him. "What the hell are you doing in here?!"  
  
"Uh, yeah," he looked at her dripping form; he was actually hoping she had been naked instead. "Sorry about that, but your little Scooby friends are all downstairs giving me big scary eyeball looks like they're part of the bloody Mafia."  
  
She scowled at him and walked toward the door, gripping the knob. "Tell them I'll be right there."  
  
"Sure thing, Slayer - " but he didn't get to finish his sentence because Buffy threw the door shut in his face and he could hear the little click of the lock. "Bitch," he sneered.  
  
"Shut up, Spike!"  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Buffy walked slowly down the staircase, Angel behind her, her shaky hand gripping the rail until her knuckles shown white. Her hair was tied up and out of her face. _You have to look fresh_, she told herself when she was getting ready. She wore brighter colors, white and blue. They were bright, weren't they? Because dark colors were inappropriate... right? Although Angel always wore black so...  
  
She closed her eyes and shook of her head of all the words that cluttered her brain. She reopened them to see her friends, including Dawn, staring up at her - small, fake smiles plastering their faces like masks. Buffy put up her own facade and gave them a smile too. Dawn as probably the only one not smiling at all, besides Spike, of course. "Hey," she said, quietly. "How are you guys?"  
  
"We're okay..." answered Willow, breathing a deep sigh. "We're fine. Are you okay?"  
  
Willow watched Angel as he sat on the last step. If you didn't know who Angel was or how he usually acted around tense times, you wouldn't have thought anything about his behavior, but everyone gave Buffy a skeptical eye - everyone except Tara and Willow who knew what had happened.  
  
"Yeah, I - I think I'm fine," she said quietly. Buffy looked around the room, they all seemed to be exhausted, especially the two wiccans who sat at the back of the room. And they all had the right to look exhausted. The past month hadn't been easy for either or them. They all had to scurry around, looking behind their shoulders for women with curly red hair, or watch for her ugly minions who lurked around Sunnydale, ready to bring her information. Then there was Buffy's mom. They whole gang, maybe except for Tara, had come to know and love Joyce. They were all worried about her health almost as much as Dawn and Buffy were.  
  
And Buffy was forever grateful for their support. She didn't understand, or want to understand, how a Slayer fought without her friends - if she even had any. They made Buffy strong and kept her fighting. God, they kept her standing on her own to feet. She thought about it for a second, then did that make her weaker or did it make her stronger than the other Slayers?  
  
Slayers were meant to be the epitome of the warriors for light and good and everything shiny. But Buffy didn't understand at how - someone used for righting the wrong - didn't have any of the essential things that made a person good. Friends, family, lovers? They were all taken away at a very early age. Like Kendra, for example, she had said her Watcher had taken her away from her own family at a very early age. She was never to have friends or even talk to _boys_. All she knew how to do was slay. It was a very black and white world for her; vampires, evil; humans, good. Buffy didn't know how all the Slayers before her managed. How do you fight the good fight when you had no one to catch you when you fall and help you build yourself back up? Then again, Buffy was a _very _different Slayer in all respects. She was just... odd.  
  
Special.  
  
"So, Buffy," Giles started, looking to Buffy in the manner he always had since she was just 15. Like he was going to ask her a question. "Willow said you had something to... tell us?"  
  
Buffy nodded, stepping in front of her friends, her palms glued to the side of her legs. "Yeah," she nodded. "I do."  
  
She looked around the room at all her friends' faces. Friends.  
  
"Well?" Xander said from the couch. "The suspense is killing us all."  
  
((Come on guys, the suspense is killing Angel.))  
  
Buffy looked down as she whispered to the group quietly. "Angel, he got attacked by Glory last night," she felt her eyes water with more fucking tears and she bit the inside of her lip to stop them from falling. "And... she..." she looked up to the rest of them and watery trails were already falling down her face. "She got him."  
  
"But, Buffy... Angel's standing right there," Xander motioned to Angel with his hand, slightly confused by all of this. "I mean, if your definition of getting him is the same as ours..."

"Xander," Willow whispered, giving him a small glance, telling him to just stop talking.  
  
"You mean she got Angel's..." Giles trailed off, catching onto what she was saying. Buffy nodded slowly, shifting her gaze back down to the floor. Giles gave her a compassionate look and stood up to give her a hug. "Oh, Buffy..."  
  
She wrapped her arms around Giles, crying into his sweater. He softly put a hand on her head and told her everything was going to be alright - although it was like telling a penguin he was really going to fly. He shot Angel a glance and did see the... lack of emotion in his eyes. Angel's eyes, as far as Giles could remember, had all this feeling in them. That was the line that drew Angel away from all other vampires. His eyes. The fact that he cared. But this... shell of the former vampire was too hallow, too hallow for even the regular vampire.  
  
"Buff..." Xander tried, he was never really good at sympathizing with anything that had the mention of Angel in it. "We're really sorry..." Xander walked toward her and put a comforting hand on her arm. Anya just nodded in agreement. "Are you..."  
  
Buffy pulled away from everyone and wiped her tears. "No, I can't start crying now," she said, a little angry that her eyes were so swollen all the time. She gave Angel a long stare.  
  
"I need to call LA."  
  
- - - - - - - - - - -  
  
"You think we should call Sunnydale?"  
  
Wesley looked up from the newspaper he was reading. Cordelia had been on edge every since Angel left for Sunnydale. She never said anything about the missing, well not missing, but not present vampire, but Wesley could tell that she worried. He knew Cordelia had become quite independent since Angel fired them, but he also knew she did sometimes depend on Angel for just being Angel. He was the first one to ever take notice of her since she came to LA, gave her a job. Gave her a friend. Wesley sighed softly, every since Angel left, she looked as if he had just fired them a second time.  
  
"Well, considering how he's been gone for about... two days..." he gave her a skeptical look.  
  
Cordelia shot him a glare. "Hey, you just be quiet, Mr. I-know-it-all. You weren't around when Buffy and Angel got groiny with each other and then he started to eat all your neighbors - it doesn't take this long for Angel to lose his soul!"  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her. "So you're saying he's going to lose his soul?"  
  
"Well, duh!" she gave him an incredulous look. "He's like WAY vulnerable now since, you know, the whole Darla thing and now he's running to Sunnydale to save his beloved Buffy - oh yeah, I'm surprised they haven't even called already."  
  
"Cordelia," Wesley started, "both Angel and Buffy are very... controlled - "  
  
_RING! RING!_  
  
Cordelia gave him an I-told-you-so glare and picked up the Angel Investigations telephone. "Hello, Angel Investigations, we help the helpless."  
  
"Cordelia?"  
  
It was Buffy. _What did I tell him_, Cordelia thought.  
  
"Angel lost his soul, didn't he?" she said as if she was asking how the weather was in Sunnydale.  
  
Buffy, on the other line, furrowed her eyebrows. "What? No - Cordelia - "  
  
"No, stop with being DenialBuffy, I understand. You two just couldn't keep your hands off each other, what with the groping - "  
  
"We do not grope - "  
  
"And, hey, it just happened," she cradled the phone on her shoulder, looking at her nails.  
  
"Cordelia!" Buffy yelled. "We didn't..." she paused, not wanting to bring up sex and Angel in the same sentence around her friends. "We wouldn't, okay?"  
  
"Oh," Cordelia said, thoughtfully. "So he isn't crazy with bloodlust?"  
  
"No, Cordy. Angel isn't evil," Buffy sighed. "But something happened last night."  
  
Cordelia's shoulders went rigid and she stopped fiddling with her nails, letting her weight balance on both of her feet. Wesley looked up, noticing Cordelia's tense stance. He folded his newspaper and started to wheel himself to where Cordelia was standing.  
  
"What? What happened?" Cordy asked, scared about what the little blonde Slayer was going to say. "Buffy?"  
  
"Cordelia," Buffy started, "Angel's... we got attacked last night - or at least he did."  
  
"By what? He's not dead or anything, right?!" Cordelia said, giving Wesley a worried glance.  
  
"No, he's... alright," she sighed. "Do you think you guys can come over tonight or something?"  
  
"Buffy you have to tell me what's going on!" Cordelia commanded into the telephone receiver, her temper flaring.  
  
"Cordelia," Buffy said, her temper short, also. "Just get you and your crew over here now."  
  
Cordelia sighed, finally agreeing. "Yeah, sure, Buffy. We'll be right there," hanging up the phone slowly, Cordelia gave Wesley a grim look. "Angel's in trouble... again"  
  
"What happened?" Wesley asked.  
  
Cordelia shrugged. "Little bitch didn't say, but she told us to get over there ASAP," she sighed and picked up the phone, dialing Gunn's number. "I'll call Gunn."  
  
"Good idea," Wesley said. "We'd better get ready and leave tonight."  
  
Cordelia quirked an eyebrow while Gunn's cell rang, "You really like to state the obvious, don't you?"  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
Buffy let the phone rest at her ear for quite a few seconds before hanging it back up on its cradle. The whole gang was now in the kitchen and each of their eyes glued to her back as she spoke to Cordelia. She turned back to them, her hands pushed into her back pockets. "They're coming down here in a while."  
  
"You sure that's a good idea, Buffy?" Xander asked.  
  
She nodded, although not really sure of it. "Yeah, we need all the fire power we can get. Wesley can help Giles with the book stuff and Cordelia can be... annoyingly supportive..."  
  
Xander gave a small nod, worried about seeing his old ex, Cordelia Chase. She wasn't really with the sympathy when it came to him or anyone else for that matter, but she had gotten impaled because of him - so he guessed all was fair.  
  
"Well then," Giles said. "I say we better try to find a... uh, cure... for Angel's condition."  
  
"Aye aye, Captain," Buffy said lamely, "Where do we start?"  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
It was three hours and about three million books later when Willow rubbed her temples and groaned as she took a break from grazing the spell books of anything that might help them break Glory's outcome of her attack. The work was tedious because there were a lot of books and very little people. She hadn't realized how much Giles' book collection had grown since high school, now that he had the Magic Box.  
  
She groaned. "Is this all we have, Giles?" she asked. "They all say the same thing."  
  
"I'm afraid this is all I have..." Giles said, closing his own book. "We could try the Council..."  
  
"But, oh right, they fired you and Buffy's a renegade," Xander said, the comment a little more bitter than he wanted it to sound, but he was beyond caring at this point.  
  
"No, no, this can't be it," Buffy said, frustrated. "Giles, I can't leave Angel like this."  
  
"Yes, yes, I know," he said, cleaning his glasses. "I'll at least try and contact the Council, see if they have anything on Glory or anything that will help Angel."  
  
Buffy nodded. "Thanks," she said to Giles with a weak smile, the former Watcher stepping out of the living room and into the kitchen to use the phone. Buffy then gave Angel a small glance. He was sitting in the corner of the room, his knees up and his palms resting flat on the ground. Buffy watched him mumbled softly to himself, sometimes twisting his head around and squeezing his eyes shut. She sighed.  
  
Willow saw her best friends stare and frowned. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the complete despair Buffy was feeling - or maybe she could, a little, because just a day earlier she feared it would be Tara in serious trouble instead of Angel and Willow didn't know if her beloved partner had been lost in a sea of lost control.  
  
At first she was afraid if her friend would be able to get through this... again. Willow remembered the year Buffy had sent Angel to hell. Buffy had been so heartbroken that she ran all the way to Los Angeles for the whole summer. Even when she had come back to all her friends, she was still shaken up over Angel's departure, haunted by the memories of her boyfriend- gone-bad. Then, last night when Glory did her damage, Willow was so afraid that Buffy would break because she had already lost Angel once.  
  
"We'll find something, Buffy," Willow said quietly.  
  
Buffy gave her best friend a small, but genuine, smile. She loved Willow so much. She loved when Willow's smile lit even the darkest places with luminous light. She loved how her friend's words could touch the deepest part of your heart and somehow make it feel again. And she loved at how strong the small redhead could become, sophomore year she was just a scared rabbit waiting for the others to pick on her or pressure her into doing their homework, but now she was a radiant Wicca who could kick demon ass and yet still retain her inward glow. "I hope so," she hugged her arms to herself. "Look at him, Wil; he's trapped in there... so helpless..."  
  
Willow nodded. "We'll get him back."  
  
Buffy shook her head a bit, taking herself away from her thoughts and giving the rest of the people in the room an apologetic glance. "Sorry..."  
  
She began to look into another book when Giles came back into the room. By the expression on his face, the Council had either rejected him because he was no longer a part of their inferior league or because they thought Angel wasn't a cause worth fighting for. Either way, Buffy's hate for the Council flared and she wanted to again rip their eyes out and feed them to Spike. "So the Council was a no go?"  
  
Giles gave her a sorrowful look. "Unfortunately, yes. They said it was going to be improbable that the Council could ever save a vampire, under any circumstances - even Angel's."  
  
"Well who died and made them head Council?" Xander retorted.  
  
"Xander, they are head Council," Giles said, correcting him for what seemed to be the billionth time.  
  
"Oh," Xander said, sticking his nose back into a book.  
  
Giles looked to Buffy who looked like her world was about to fall from beneath her feet. "Buffy, I'm terribly sorry - "  
  
"No," she said, shaking her head, trying to put on a fake smile but couldn't bring herself to even look okay. "It wasn't your fault," her eyes brimming with tears. She felt like she had been saying that for a while now. Everyone thought it was their fault; God, she wouldn't be surprised if Anya claimed it was her fault. The person - thing - she only blamed was Glory and the hell goddess will pay for what she did.  
  
Buffy's brow furrowed. The Council was had been their strongest hope even though it was a long shot, but now they had to settle for dusty, boring books that told of only simple spells and even simpler demons. There was nothing on Glory or from where she had come from. Nothing to help Angel get better. She sighed, "We'll just, you know, keep looking."  
  
The doorbell rang and everyone's heads shot up. They were here. Anya, being the only person not even irrelevantly nervous about seeing the remaining AI team, got up and grumpily opened the door. She gave each of the three people on the doorstep an evil glare, "Hi! Do you have money or possibly a snotty little Watcher with you?"  
  
"Uh, we're actually here to see..." Wesley began, a little taken back at the girl's question.

"No, sorry, can't help you!" Anya said quickly, then slamming the door in front of Wesley, Cordelia, and Gunn's face.  
  
"An!" Xander yelled at his girlfriend.  
  
She sighed, rolling her eyes and flung the door back open. "Sorry..." she mumbled, stepping aside so the three could get through; Cordelia pushing Wesley's wheelchair. They all gave her a weird glance as they crossed into the house.  
  
Buffy walked over to the LA gang and gave them a small, lame-excuse-for-a- smile. The first thing she noticed was Wesley confined into a wheelchair, something she wasn't surprised by, but she was a little worried. Also, that Irish guy wasn't with them and even though she hadn't seem him the last time she went to LA, she thought he had the day off or something. Instead there was a young, handsome looking man with them. Stern for his age, but they could probably use him for the upcoming battle - if he was going to hang around for a while. "Hey," she greeted, "What happened to you?"  
  
Wesley shook his head. "Oh, nothing to be worried about - "  
  
"What did you do to him?" Cordelia interrupted him, jabbing a finger a perfectly manicured finger at her.  
  
Wesley gave a defeated sigh. "Can't I finish any of my senten - "  
  
"Cordy!" Xander said, coming up from behind Buffy and interrupting Wesley; Wesley just rolled his eyes. "A nice hello would be a tactful start."  
  
Cordelia gave Xander a glare before turning her attention back to the Slayer who looked somewhat smaller than Cordelia had ever seen her. Frail, maybe. She sighed and gave Buffy a desperate look. "Buffy, just tell us, please..."  
  
Buffy nodded, "Yeah... over here," she said, leading them into the living room and trying to brace herself for all their outbursts and questions. Cordelia followed half expecting Angel to be just injured, but wasn't ready for what she saw in the corner.  
  
An empty shell of her friend that looked so lost Cordelia could cry. She let out a small gasp and rushed over to Angel, grabbing his shoulders and tried to make something out of all of this. "Angel?! Angel! Oh my God, Angel!"  
  
Gunn himself almost shuddered to see the vampire in the corner so... dead, no pun intended. "Whoa... what the hell happened?"  
  
Wesley, too, was shocked at what he saw, apparently, left of Angel. He gave Giles a questionable look, "What happened?"  
  
"He got attacked by our local bad-y," Buffy whispered. "She..." she swallowed, it was so hard to say it, "... she, Glory, ate... took his mind."  
  
Wesley looked at her, more puzzled than he was before. "Ate?"  
  
"Sounds like one nasty piece of a demon to me," Gunn quipped, shoving his hands in his pockets.  
  
"Goddess, actually," Willow said and all three of their eyes grew wide. "Yeah, she's actually not from this dimension. She's trying to get back to where she came from, but she needs energy and she absorbs that energy through... taking peoples minds. It's really complicated; we aren't even sure where to start."  
  
"He saved my life, if that helps..." Tara offered, looking to the new people with saddened eyes. "He - he was very brave..."  
  
"I'm sure he was," Wesley said, sincerely. Although, still puzzled on the new demoness who had made her appearance in Sunnydale. He sighed; it was still hard to accept what was going around over here.  
  
"Always is," Buffy said, watching Angel and hoping for a different alternative than the one she held in her hand.

- - - - - - - - - -

blah, blah, blah. so much emotion. rawr.


	11. Chapter 11

hm. this chapter came out faster than i thought it would. wheeeee! ok. go read and thanks to everyone who's reviewing. muah!

**Chapter 11**  
  
"And this is where we are now," Buffy said, finishing the Cliff Notes version of what had happened over the last two chapters. Although leaving out the part about Darla, the thought was too painful for her to even mention. Everyone was sitting around the small coffee table - except for Spike, who was in the kitchen minding his own business.  
  
"Hmph..." Cordelia said, a little overwhelmed by everything that was going through her mind. Angel and Buffy... together again? Maybe? Cordelia wanted to put her head in a hole, keep it there, and never hear those two names in the same day EVER again. It was like Romeo and Juliet twisted into a sad and sick reality – and, of course, without those stupid looking outfits.  
  
_A pair of star-crossed lovers take their lives._  
  
Well, yeah, of course you could call both Angel and Buffy star-crossed. Hell, you could even call them galaxy-crossed, and both Buffy and Angel had... died, in a sense. Buffy had even killed Angel - how much more of a modern day Shakespeare could you get? Watch out Leo and Claire, here come Angel and Buffy!  
  
"Why hadn't you called us earlier, before Angel got here?" Wesley asked, breaking Cordelia away from her little ramble that still twirled inside her mind.  
  
"We didn't think it was your fight," Buffy said, almost playing the exact same words Angel had told her.  
  
((It wasn't your fight...))  
  
"Well, hello, Ms. I-can-do-everything, you OBVIOUSLY couldn't do it by yourself! You're only one person Buffy..." Cordelia said.  
  
((Angel, you SLEPT with her! You obviously didn't win!))  
  
And, in the middle of everything inside and outside Buffy's head, it all collided together. Tears started to well up again and she just wasn't strong enough to hold the sobs inside anymore. Her face contorted into pain and guilt, and it all just hurt so badly. Buffy hung her head in her hands as everyone was too afraid to say anything else that would upset her even further.  
  
Cordelia looked at the poor girl across her. Buffy Summers was breaking, she realized, and part of her felt some sort of compassion towards the Slayer. Because this was one of the only times they saw the real Buffy, not the Chosen One, not the great Slayer who fought and won battles, just Buffy. "Oh, Buffy... was it something I said?"  
  
Buffy just cried harder. It wasn't something Cordelia said, not necessarily, but something she had said to Angel. One of the last things she said to him before - and without a word Buffy left the mix of Scooby Gang and AI Team, scrambling to get inside her room and away from everyone and everything that reminded her of Angel. Which was pretty pointless since she'd have to practically get out of California and out of her own skin to leave everything that reminded her of Angel.  
  
Climbing up the stairs and quickly closing her door, she crawled into her bed and cried salty tears that streamed angry lines down her face. So desperately she wanted her Angel back, more than ever now. Times like these was when she still craved Angel's loving touch and soothing words to calm her down and clear her head. He was her strength and her love. And just like that, he was gone.  
  
Maybe she should just let Glory kill her and let the new Slayer be called. The thought was incredibly selfish and obviously apocalyptic, but Buffy couldn't find it in herself to gather the strength and energy to fight this thing. She felt like she was drying up under a heated sun with nothing but dry, cracked stone beneath her.  
  
_Breathe_, she told herself.  
  
Using what motivation she had left, Buffy sat herself up, her legs thrown over the edge of her bed. Her breath hitched and she used everything within herself to stop another Buffy-goes-crazy episode. The people down there - her friends, family, and somewhat of a nemesis - needed a leader and, boy, what a bang up job she was doing right now.  
  
A knock on the door wracked three times before Willow's voice came through from the other side, "Buffy? Can I come in?" Buffy didn't have the voice to answer, but the redhead opened the door anyway. Willow's mouth frowned when she saw Buffy's face tinted with tears. She closed the door and slowly sat next to where Buffy was. "You okay?"  
  
Buffy turned her head to her best friend. "No," she said in a quiet voice, another goddamn tear falling from her glossy eyes. Willow thought she almost resembled an old worn out China doll. Her eyes like glass and her skin so pale she looked almost fragile. Buffy started to sob again and Willow took her head into her lap, quietly soothing Buffy and running her hand over her head.  
  
"Oh, God, Will... I don't know what to do... I don't know what to do..."  
  
"Oh, Buffy..." Willow said, she felt so horrible while watching Buffy cry. It was the best friend's job to make her feel better, but Willow couldn't think of anything that would make up for what had happened. "I'm so sorry..."  
  
"Everyone keeps saying that," Buffy cried, "but he's never coming back... he's never going to be mine again..."  
  
"Don't say that," Willow said, trying to spit out something productive. "We'll find a cure, Buffy. We don't need the council. They're like... rain on a sunny day. We can do it all by ourselves, just like the last time."  
  
Just like the last time Angel almost died.  
  
"Make him come back... please, just make him comeback..." Buffy said, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.  
  
"Shhh," Willow crooned. "Just rest, Buffy. We'll figure something out, I promise..."  
  
After moments of quiet soothing and tears, Buffy had fallen asleep in Willow's lap. Willow was grateful that her friend was finally getting some shut eye through all of the chaos that is Sunnydale, California. She quietly spread Buffy out on her bed as best as she could, using a little magic to suspend her friend in the air while she opened the sheets; then quietly laid Buffy down and covered her with a blanket. She gave Buffy a small kiss on the cheek before she quietly walked out of her room, closing the door softly behind her.  
  
Willow tiptoed her way back down stairs. Tension just bounced off the walls as all eyes turned to her. "She was just a little shaken up," she informed, frowning. "All of this is taking a lot out of her."  
  
"I couldn't begin to imagine..." Wesley mused.  
  
Willow shook her head, agreeing with Wesley. "I don't think any of us can."  
  
"Is she alright?" Xander asked, compassion floating behind his humorous eyes.  
  
Willow shrugged. "I think she'll be a little better after she gets some rest, but she'll be fine."  
  
"That's good," Giles commended.  
  
"So, do we hit the books again or do we go and get us a hell goddess to pummel?" Xander asked, only half joking.  
  
"For some odd reason, I think I'm leaning toward the pummeling," Giles said as he relaxed his brow.  
  
"A good man of our time," Xander quipped.  
  
"Wait, so this Glory goddess, or whatever" Cordy started, a hand on her hip, "she's like the real deal in all the Sunnydale apocalypse history?"  
  
"As real as it can get," Willow said, sitting herself down text to Tara. "It's gonna be a hell of a battle."  
  
"Not unless she just zaps you all first," Spike retorted, stepping into the living room, a bottle of beer in his hands.  
  
"Spike?!" Cordelia yelped, not knowing the bleached vampire was in the kitchen.  
  
"Where'd you get that?" Dawn asked and she looked around to the other people in the room. "We have beer in this house?"  
  
"Nope, sorry, love," he said, holding up the bottle and looking at it for a second. "Stole this down at some demon shindig. Snuck out while all you little Scooby people had your little private meeting that I'm never invited to."  
  
"Does anyone realize that SPIKE is right here? IN this house?" Cordelia screeched, remembering the last time she saw him he was poking hot pokers through her boss' torso.  
  
"Yes, Cordelia," Xander said. "He's... neutered now."  
  
"Hey, now!" Spike protested, pointing a finger at Xander. "I'm just as bad as I was before, you know. Just can't hit people, that's all. Fucking Initiative and their bloody tools."  
  
"Yeah, so he's harmless," Xander said, nonchalant.  
  
"Now you just watch your - "  
  
"Back off - "  
  
"Hey!" Willow yelled, separating the two angry enemies, her eyes flaring with anger "This isn't the time for this; you both either sit down or shut up!"  
  
"He started it, Red." Spike tried, but she just gave him an even more menacing glare.  
  
They both sat down quietly, a little afraid of the usually quiet Wicca's outburst. "Good," she said, quietly. She gave each of them a stern look. "Buffy doesn't need you two bickering right now. She's got enough on her hands."  
  
"Willow's right," Giles agreed. "I suggest you two... get your differences settled out right now."  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Spike said, turning his head away. Xander just nodded meekly, crossing his arms. Anya wrapped her arms around him possessively.  
  
Willow gave them another glare.  
  
"Sorry," they both said, simultaneously; avoiding eye contact.  
  
"Okay," Willow said, smoothing out her pants. Her patience level had descended into a pancake over the pass few days and the two of them weren't making it any better. "We need to find that spell."  
  
"Do you think we should g - go and get some more books at the Magic Box?" Tara suggested, not having said anything in a long while. She walked over to Willow and grabbed her lover's hand, squeezing it affectionately.  
  
"Magic Box?" Wesley questioned, a little confused.  
  
"Giles' shop," Anya answered, happily. "He sells all kind of magical things. I work there. Do you plan on buying anything? I – I mean, _we_ would greatly appreciate if it was very expensive. "  
  
Wesley, Gunn, and Cordelia all gave her weird glances. "Um, no, that won't be necessary...." Wesley mumbled.  
  
"Well," Giles said, cleaning his glasses for what seemed the fifth time that day. "There may be some books that we overlooked, but I don't want anyone going out now that we know how... devastating Glory's powers can be."  
  
"Gee, isn't he just the biggest party pooper we've ever seen," Xander said who wanted to take revenge on Glory for what she did to Buffy - to all of them. He gave a sidelong glance to Angel who was still sitting in the corner; part of him felt a sense of... forgiveness for Angel. Forgiveness for what Angelus did to them, for Angel swooping in and stealing Buffy right from his grasp in their teenage years. Maybe those were all selfish reasons, but it looking at the degraded vampire now Xander a feeling of odd contentment.  
  
But who said they all had to get touchy-feely right now, huh?  
  
"So we just wait?" Dawn asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.  
  
"Um... for the moment, yes," Giles nodded. "We should, uh, reread the books for any thing we might have... missed. I'm sure there's plenty."  
  
"Okay, then," Willow agreed. "Time to start hitting the books... again."  
  
"Ugh, but I've probably read all of them five times already," Xander said, rubbing his head. "Isn't there an option B?"  
  
"Xander," Willow sighed, "we have to do this for Buffy..."  
  
"Yeah, you're right," he replied. He grabbed another book. "God, and I thought graduation was the last time I would ever read another book."  
  
- - - - - - - - - -  
  
"Oh," Wesley said, his head still buried in a book as he traced his finger under one of the many lines of words that held somewhat of a more significance than the others. The books pages were old and ancient, almost cracking beneath his fingers. "Oh, I - I think I may have found something."  
  
Everyone's head looked over to the ex-Watcher, both anticipating and wary. There had been nothing remotely useful in the books printed in plain, good English and Giles and Wesley (and of course Anya, but she wasn't that much help at the moment) were the only ones who could even recognize different phrases or words in all the different demonic languages.  
  
"There..." he continued, "there's some kind of passage about Glory in here... and maybe part of her... abilities, I think."  
  
"Really?" Giles asked, looking over Wesley's shoulder. "Right here," he said, pointing to a paragraph half way down the page. "It says..." his eyes scanned the book and tried to make sense of the demonic language. "Something about... Glory's power? Am I not right? I'm not quite sure if I'm reading this correctly..."  
  
"No, no, you're correct," Wesley said, he was a little fuzzy on the ancient tongue himself. Angel Investigations hardly ran into anymore demonic languages ever since the prophecy about Angel's Shanshu, which had gave them enough trouble translating the dead text. "At least I think so."  
  
"God, why are all the good stuff encrypted in some other demonic, scratchy language?" Cordelia sighed, shoving her book down on the coffee table. "I mean, is it so much to ask for a decoding device or something?"  
  
"And I think I may just have to second that," Xander said.  
  
"I mean, hello," Cordelia continued rambling. "There was that one stupid – well, maybe not stupid – ancient scroll thing with Angel's prophecy - "  
  
Giles and everyone's head shot up at the word prophecy. It was a word not taken lightly around Sunnydale and Wesley and Gunn immediately tried to stop Cordelia from saying too much.  
  
"Cordelia, hey - " Gunn tried.  
  
"Like does it take THAT much of their time to just write out _Angel will become human_ in English. If they see so many prophecies why can't they prophesize that we'll all speak in - " she immediately stopped when the room got quiet and everyone was staring at her with wide eyes. Gunn and Wesley's head hung in horror and almost amusement.  
  
"Did you say human?"  
  
"Human."  
  
"Human?"  
  
"Uh... that was one of the times where I was just supposed to... shut up, wasn't it?"


End file.
